


My December

by lazulisong



Category: D.N. Angel
Genre: M/M, where old fic goes to die again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-08
Updated: 2012-09-08
Packaged: 2017-11-13 19:23:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 31,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/506880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazulisong/pseuds/lazulisong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The darkest time of the year.</p><p>This is a canon-divergent fic I wrote ... eight years ago? or so ? and finally got around to posting here. It's held up pretty well, I think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. my december

**Author's Note:**

> GUYS LOOK IT'S MEG'S GIANT FIC FULL OF SHAME FROM EIGHT YEARS AGO, NOW ON AO3 SO YOU CAN ALL JUDGE HER FOR IT!
> 
> AU from book four of the manga, because that was when shit started going off the rails and I was like, I can write this better than them. YMMV but it was a pretty popular fic. Which says less about the quality of writing and more about the amount available.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ: This is an AU that starts more or less after the events of volume 4. I'm very sorry, but there ARE NO HARADA TWINS. If that bothers you, er, I'm sorry. I don't hate the Harada twins, it's just that this story is SatDai. >_> Assume that ROCKS FELL. THEY DIED. IT WAS SAD. And then please don't flame me, it only annoys me and wastes your time.
> 
> With grateful thanks to readers and cohorts of all descriptions, especially Sakkit, Ysabet, Icka, Becky, Meimi and Vikki (who was faced with the choice of 'beta fic' or 'beta fic' the night I started the editing to post on ff.net. Aha).
> 
> Reviews are like, the grease of the wheels of my typing fingers. o.o -- meg

(The story probably began like this.

Once upon a time, there was a young man who was born into a clan of artists.

At the same time, there was born a young man into a clan of thieves.

The artist had a gift for his art, and the things that he created seemed to possess life of their own. He made his art with the desire to capture the hearts of all who saw it.

The thief saw what the artist created, and desired it. He would do anything to have it for his own, to keep and possess it forever.

Do you know? Their wishes were exactly the same.)

\---

When Daisuke was a baby, he would lie for hours staring at nothing and laughing delightedly. If you picked him up, he looked at nothing and a huge, happy smile would split his face and he would laugh and laugh. It was almost as though someone was playing with him, even when there was nobody around.

When Satoshi was a baby, he had spells of screaming in terror. Even if you picked him up to comfort him, he stared at nothing and screamed more.

When Daisuke was four, he had an imaginary friend named Dark. Dark had purple hair and was seventeen years old. He followed Daisuke around and helped him climb up trees to escape his mother.

When Daisuke turned five, Dark told him he had to go away for a while, and it would be better if Daisuke forgot about him. He promised to come back someday.

When Daisuke turned fourteen, he turned into a seventeen year old boy with purple hair, whose name was Dark. He still didn't remember his imaginary friend.

Dark did, though.

When Satoshi was four, he had an imaginary enemy named Krad. Krad had blond hair and was immortal. He followed Satoshi around and laughed at him a lot.

When Satoshi turned five, Krad told him he had to go away from a while, and it would be better if Satoshi forgot about him. He promised to come back someday.

When Satoshi turned fourteen and fell in love with Daisuke, he turned into an immortal boy with blond hair, whose name was Krad. He still remembered his imaginary enemy.

So did Krad.

\----

MY DECEMBER  
a DNANGEL FIC by MEG  
01 : day by day  
DNANGEL does NOT belong to me. /disclaimer

\----

"Hiwatari-kun!"

Satoshi swung around, unsurprised, as Niwa bounded up to him. Niwa had the arm-and-legs gait of someone whose body had decided to suddenly grow and forgot to tell him first, but he still had an odd, coltish grace. In two or three years he would be as quick and light as Dark.

"Niwa," he said, calmly. He'd told Niwa about fifteen million times -- or it felt like fifteen million times, perhaps he had only told him aloud once, but repeated it in his head over and over so much that he had lost count -- that he should stay away from him, but Niwa continued to bound up to him.

Satoshi couldn't decide if that was the most foolish thing he had ever seen, or the most trusting, but either way he couldn't help but be glad, somewhere, that Niwa never listened to him tell him to go away.

"Are you going shopping? Mom sent me out to get stuff for supper tonight."

"Yeah, kind of," said Satoshi neutrally. He supposed that eventually he would stop somewhere and get something to microwave, but mostly he was walking just to tire himself out. He looked at Niwa, and wondered for a moment what it would be like to run errands for a parent. Foolishness, to think of that, and he knew it.

He turned again, and Niwa fell into step beside him. Satoshi looked at him through the corner of his eye, and then turned and stared. The rabbit-thing that apparently belonged to Niwa looked back at him from Niwa's hood.

"Why have you got your ... pet in your sweatshirt hood?"

Niwa blinked at him. "He likes riding in it," he said, as if that should the perfectly obvious answer.

"I thought only ferrets did that."

"With's special," said Niwa, proudly.

Considering that the animal in question regularly changed into the wings of a famous thief, not to mention the forms of the thief himself and the thief's host, and was probably some sort of magic beast listed under the heading 'bound demon', Satoshi decided not to argue the point. "Won't it fall out?"

"Not if he doesn't want to."

"Kyuu!" agreed the animal.

"So what is he, exactly?"

"With?" Niwa considered for a second. "Dunno. A familiar or something, I think."

"...," said Satoshi. "Niwa?"

"Yeah?"

"You are the only person in this universe who carries a lesser demon in his sweatshirt hood."

"He sleeps on my face at night," said Niwa, cheerfully. "And he and Towa-chan watch soaps with Mom. He especially likes 'Hearts Toward the Future', but I guess Towa-chan likes 'Your Heart Only' better."

Satoshi wrenched his mind away from the oddly appealing image of Niwa asleep with a long-eared white lump of fur spread over his face, and stared at him. "'Towa-chan'? Oh. 'Towa no Shirube', you mean?"

"Yeah, but if you call her anything but 'Towa-chan' she throws a fi-- wait, how did you know she moved in with us?"

"She asked me first," said Satoshi, trying to avoid a second vivid mental image of With, Towa no Shirube and Niwa's mother watching television and talking back to the characters. He failed utterly. "She was made by the Hikari family."

"Oh," said Niwa.

"Dark does specialize in Hikari artwork," said Satoshi mildly.

"How should I know?" He added something under his breath that sounded like 'Mom sends out the notices and tells me where to go', but Satoshi concluded he wasn't supposed to hear it.

They walked on in silence for a while. It was nice, Satoshi thought, comfortable almost, as if they really were friends walking nowhere in particular together, talking about anything and nothing that came to mind. As if Niwa did not carry Dark within him and Satoshi did not carry Krad, as if they were not fated to be enemies whose burdens meant to kill each other and did not care if they killed their hosts in the process.

Almost like being normal, he thought.

"Hiwatari-kun?"

"Yeah?"

Niwa cleared his throat. "I was just thinking... um..."

Satoshi stopped and looked at him. Niwa looked slightly embarrassed and harassed -- Niwa usually did, of course, but he looked a little more embarrassed than usual. "What?"

"I was, um, just thinking..." said Niwa, and then in a rush, "It's kind of nice. That you're around and, um, that we're kind of friends now. Cos it's nice to talk to someone about With and Dark and Towa-chan, and, um, I'm glad you're around."

Satoshi froze.

\---

::Uh, Daisuke?::

Daisuke was kind of busy studying Hiwatari-kun's face anxiously, but he answered anyway. :Yes, Dark?:

::That was not the smartest thing you have ever done.::

:Huh?: Hiwatari-kun was still standing there, staring at him.

::... but on the other hand, at least we've got With here.::

:Dark, I'm pretty sure you think you're making sense.:

::...:: A deep sigh, as if from the depths of a patient martyrdom. ::Put it this way: That was real bright making him go doki-doki like that.::

:Huh?:

::I give up.::

\---

 

 _/I'm going to kill him,/_ said Krad, almost pleasantly.

Satoshi took a deep breath. He could actually feel Niwa's worry. _Shut up._

 _/Shan't,/_ said Krad. _/He really has no idea what he does to you, that boy./_

_I said, shut up._

_/And I said I shan't,/_ retorted Krad. Satoshi knew he had his nastiest smile, the one that meant that Satoshi was being a fool to even think of what he was thinking, and Krad was going to spend as much time as he pleased pointing this out to him. _/My, how very touching. He's glad 'you're kind of friends'. That 'you're around'. It's 'kind of nice to talk about Dark and With and Towa-chan'. Such very strong feelings for you, Satoshi-sama. Isn't that wonderful?/_

Satoshi's fists were clenched, he discovered. He relaxed them, deliberately. _I have got a cut-throat razor, a full bottle of sleeping pills and a very sturdy beam in my apartment. Shut. Up._

_/You wouldn't kill yourself to get rid of me. You'd make poor Niwa sad to lose his **friend**./_

_And I'd die knowing that I wasn't the cause of his death, wouldn't I?_

_/I could heal your body. It would be mine then./_

_Are you **sure**?_ He felt Krad hesitate. It wasn't a light matter to bring a body back from the point of death, especially if the original owner meant to die, and both of them knew it. _Are you sure enough to try it?_

Krad didn't answer, which meant that he wasn't. Satoshi was distantly relieved. He wasn't particularly afraid to die, but the threat was one of the few holds he had over Krad. Even so, a threat was only as good as your willingness to carry it out, and Satoshi knew that he had begun to wish to live. With any luck Krad hadn't realized it yet, but Satoshi doubted it.

If it came down to it, he would end his life, and they both knew it. If it was between him and Niwa, Niwa would live.

"Hiwatari-kun...?" Niwa's voice was even more anxious than usual, and it brought Satoshi back with a thump. "I said something weird, didn't I? I'm sorry."

"NO," he said, forcibly. He took a deep breath when Niwa looked alarmed. "No, you didn't. I ... I agree, it is kind of nice."

 _/'I love you but I'm afraid you'll run screaming if I say so' -- is that what you meant, Satoshi-sama?/_ The honorific was anything but a term of respect. _/'Let me be with you even though I'm afraid I'll kill you. Stay with me.'/_

_Shut. Up._

_/My dear Satoshi, you are a coward and a fool./_

_And you're a liar and a betrayer._

_/I was lied to and betrayed first,/_ said Krad, matter-of-factly. _/That's why I'm going to kill him. And then we'll both be happy./_

_That doesn't make sense._

_/They'll be ours then,/_ said Krad, his voice still calm and perfectly rational. It scared Satoshi more than anything else Krad could have done or said, that flat statement of facts as Krad saw them. _/If we kill them, if I kill him, if you kill him, we will finally be important to them./_

Nausea swept through him.

_/You see?/_

_I don't._

_/I think you do, Satoshi-sama. I rather think you do./_

"Hiwatari-kun?"

Satoshi jumped.

"You look sick," said Niwa anxiously. "Maybe you should sit down. Sit down on that bench and I'll get you something to drink, ok?" Satoshi sat, for lack of anything else to do. He did feel sick, but he doubted a drink would cure it. "With, you stay with Hiwatari-kun, ok?"

"Niwa --" began Satoshi, but With had already bounded down onto his lap and Niwa had taken off in his tangle of arms and legs.

Satoshi looked at Niwa's pet.

Niwa's pet looked at Satoshi.

"You could follow him if you'd like," said Satoshi.

The animal gave every appearance of considering this. "Kyuu," it said firmly, and settled itself on his lap.

_/I despise that animal./_

_Because it's Dark's?_

_/Because there is no reason for Dark to use that creature./_

Satoshi supposed Krad was right. There **was** no reason for Dark to need someone else's wings. Still... Satoshi stretched out his hand and stroked the thing. It had curiously soft fur, fine and dense, like mink. It squeezed its eyes at him and settled more comfortably. It was rather nice, a warm living thing keeping him company. "I'm sorry I scared you when Dark stole the Moonlight Mask," he said. He felt faintly ridiculous but he had some vague feeling that he ought to hold a polite conversation with the creature. "And, er... the other time, I'm sorry about that, too."

"Kyuu?" The creature blinked at him puzzledly.

_/I beg your pardon?/_

"At the lighthouse," said Satoshi, looking away from the creature for a second.

 _/............,/_ said Krad.

 _That sounded like Dark,_ said Satoshi.

Krad did not deign to answer.

"Kyuu," said the creature, as if to say it knew it wasn't Satoshi who had done it, and not to worry about it any more.

Satoshi closed his eyes and laid his hands on With's back. For just a minute, with the sun shining down and his fingers buried in warm, living fur, he could let some of his tension seep away.

 _/Fool,/_ said Krad, but even that was almost lazy, a formality.

Satoshi didn't care.

\---

Daisuke studied the choices in the machine. He liked mocha, but what would Hiwatari-kun like? Canned coffee, like him, or juice, or plain water? Iced tea?

::I seriously doubt anyone who eats convenience store meat buns and juice boxes at lunch for two weeks straight cares that much.:: Dark made a face. ::The same type of meat bun, no less.::

: **Some** of us like routine.:

::SOME of us are as boring as hell,:: retorted Dark. ::Get him the lemon vitamin water.::

:...Any reason?:

::Contrary to popular opinion, I am occasionally capable of feeling sorry even for the Honorable Commander Hiwatari. It ought to settle his stomach a little.::

Daisuke considered this, and punched in the code. It fell with a soft rattle and landed against his can of coffee. :I wonder why he got sick so suddenly.:

::At a guess? Blond hair, idiot ponytail with a damn stupid cross on the end, and psychopathic homicidal tendencies.:: Dark made a sound like an exasperated sigh.

:You don't think that Krad --:

::I know he did,:: said Dark. ::Maybe he didn't **do** anything, but I'm damn sure he **said** something.::

:That's awful.:

::It's the truth,:: said Dark. ::He's always hated the Hikari.::

:No, I mean --: Daisuke hesistated. :Living like that. With someone who hates you so much, and hating them, and never being able to escape, because he's in your head. We argue, but --:

::I don't look for ways to make your life a living hell?:: Dark thought for a moment. ::Well, I do, but not like that.::

:...:

::What? You're going to deny me the fun of making you turn bright red and scream at me?::

:.........,: Daisuke picked up the cans and turned back to the bench. :I wish there was some way I could help him.:

::Sure there is. Let me kill Krad.::

:But if you did --: Daisuke began, and stopped. Dark could only kill Krad if he was physically manifesting, which meant that Hiwatari-kun would...

::Yes,:: said Dark. 


	2. my december

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  [12:05 AM 10/14/04 : Apologizes to people confused by the last chapter on fanficnet -- apparently the style I use for Krad's speech (a double slash) was read as a URL marker and stripped. =.=;;;; It took me a better part of an hour -- after someone wrote me a nice review and commented that the way that Krad didn't have a speech marker really made it seem like he was part of Satoshi, and I went "Wait, WHAT? I didn't have anything planned with Krad's style -- WHAT?" -- to find a speech marker that fanficnet wouldn't strip. XO
> 
> Vikki: Did you find something that wouldn't be stripped yet?  
>  Meg: #(&@)&#@!?!!!! RAIJI DESU. MAKUSU.  
>  Vikki: ...I guess not.
> 
> So that should be fixed now. I think. I'll check. AGAIN. In the meantime, I'll try to remember it for Krad's next scene and there's a nice version up at [my now defunct website] -- remove the spaces. It isn't linked from the main fanfic site yet, because I'm sort of lazy and I've got a horrible backlog of fics to code. Or else you can always check my lj (on the fanficnet profile) for updates. More notes after the actual, you know, fic.]

When Daisuke returned with the drinks, Hiwatari-kun's eyes were closed and he looked nearly peaceful. With was fast asleep. Hiwatari-kun was still as white as a sheet, though.

::He's ALWAYS pale. It's kind of genetic.::

:Being pale?:

::No, the reason for it.::

Daisuke decided it was probably better not to take that particular remark up with Dark. There were some things that he really didn't want to know about. "Hiwatari-kun," he called. "I brought you some vitamin water."

Hiwatari-kun opened his eyes and looked blearily at him. "Oh. Thanks." He took the bottle from Daisuke and scooped With from his lap and held him out to Daisuke. With dangled from Hiwatari-kun's grasp peacefully until Daisuke took him back and tucked him in his sweatshirt hood again.

Daisuke was surprised; With usually wasn't that relaxed around people who weren't Niwa. Well, he liked Daisuke's dad, but he'd married into the family. For With to be so relaxed around Hiwatari-kun was ... weird, he thought. Just sort of weird. Sort of nice, but mostly weird.

::Wow, are you not making sense.::

:It IS weird. And I don't know why.:

::I'll tell you what. I won't explain and you won't have a heart attack. Deal?::

:...?:

::Never mind.::

"Do you feel better now?" he asked.

"Yes," said Hiwatari-kun and stood up. And swayed.

"GEH." Daisuke sprang forward.

"I'm fine," said Hiwatari-kun. He took a step forward, and nearly fell.

::...you ever notice that he has this thing where he has to be in control all the time?::

:DAAAAARK!:

::I'm just SAYING.::

Daisuke somehow managed to support Hiwatari-kun despite the latter's irritated efforts to brush him aside -- irritated, but not very effective, which made Hiwatari-kun very obviously more irritated. "I think you need to lie down for a while," said Daisuke, firmly.

"Where?" snapped Hiwatari-kun.

::Where?:: Dark paused. ::Ah, dammit, I HATE doing that.::

"It's a nice sunny day," said Daisuke, ignoring Dark and Hiwatari-kun's continued efforts to get away from Daisuke's supporting arm. "So you can lie on the grass. And then --"

::We'll drink this nice vitamin water and feel all better.::

"I'm not a baby," said Hiwatari-kun.

::....ah, crap, not AGAIN....::

:You're not being very helpful.:

::Good.::

:........:

"I'm fine," said Hiwatari-kun.

"You nearly fell flat on your face," said Daisuke, who could be stubborn, too.

Hiwatari-kun opened his mouth, and then looked down at Daisuke's arm. "I have a question."

"Yes?"

"When did you start wearing such loose clothes?"

Daisuke scratched his head nervously. "Actually, it's because I'm still smaller than Dark. I think. I dunno, I just wear what Mom tells me to."

".....," said Hiwatari-kun.

"It's just easier that way," said Daisuke. "See, if I have to transform into Dark suddenly my clothes are too tight for him. So if I wear a loose shirt and pants, they fit him pretty well, and if they're a little tight..."

Hiwatari-kun considered this gravely. "Right."

"And, um..." Daisuke shifted uncomfortably. "Since, um, things started, um, happening ... Mom kind of feels better if I'm, um..."

"Ready to transform at a minute's notice?"

Daisuke nodded, even more uncomfortably. Hiwatari-kun looked sad, for some reason.

::Poor bugger.::

:Hmm?:

::Nothing.::

"Anyway," said Daisuke, "You need to lie down."

Hiwatari-kun sighed. "Niwa?"

"Yes?"

"You're not going to give up until I go lie down, are you?"

"No," said Daisuke.

There was a long silence. "Niwa?"

"Yeah?"

"You're an idiot."

\--

They ended up sitting in an area of the park with trees growing tall above them, casting dappled shadows on the ground. Daisuke liked places with light and shadow; you weren't so conspicuous then. The ground was dry, fortunately, and the grass had recently been cut. Hiwatari-kun sat down for a few minutes, looking pale and stubborn, and Daisuke sat beside him, less pale (he hoped) and even more stubborn, petting With. And waiting. Finally Hiwatari-kun sighed impatiently and flung himself down.

"I'm lying down," he said, pointedly.

"Yes?"

"So why aren't you leaving me alone?"

"Because," said Daisuke, calmly, "As soon as I get out of sight you're going to get up and walk around some more."

"......," said Hiwatari-kun.

"Am I wrong?"

"No," said Hiwatari-kun, reluctantly.

"Anyway," said Daisuke, "it's a nice day. I don't mind sitting here for a while."

There was a long silence. "If that was a threat, Niwa..."

"It wasn't."

"Huh," said Hiwatari-kun, and flung his arm over his eyes. He stayed like that for a while, and Daisuke saw his breathing deepen and even out. Finally his arm slid off his face, and Daisuke saw that his eyes were closed. It was probably really uncomfortable sleeping with his glasses on like that, but Daisuke didn't dare try to take them off for him.

He realized suddenly he had never really **looked** at Hiwatari-kun -- which was probably because Hiwatari-kun was either staring at him (what did he see? he wondered) or else he was being Dark and didn't have the time or attention to do anything but make sure that Dark wasn't going to do something more than usually outrageous, or else they were running away, or fighting Krad, or about to fight Krad.

And now Hiwatari-kun was asleep and Dark had retreated to the far corner of Daisuke's mind, and Daisuke could look, if he wanted. It was sort of embarrassing, but Daisuke refused to think about it. With Hiwatari-kun so quiet, it was easy to pretend that he was a model to copy, a subject to paint.

Hiwatari-kun was too thin, his cheek and wrist bones sharp against his skin. His shirt had slipped slightly off his throat and his collarbone was just as clearly defined -- too clearly, as if his body burnt what fuel he remembered to give it so quickly it had none to spare to make into flesh.

His eyes were closed, with oddly thick lashes sweeping down over his cheeks, but Daisuke knew they were blue. No, not blue, exactly, a color between blue and grey that could shift instantly from one color to the other to a deep blue-black. They would be nearly impossible to paint, he thought, unless you miraculously found that exact storm-shade, a pale blue the color of a clear, snowy day's sky, with undertones of ocean and silver.

His face, too, would be hard -- at rest it was almost sad, resigned to some fate. And yet it could be hard or cold, and Daisuke remembered it twisted in agony, emotion ripping through it like a physical force. You had to look for the subtle changes in Hiwatari-kun's face, though; a slight quirk in his mouth or an eyebrow raised slightly or lowered just a bit. When you learned to read them, it was so easy. So easy to look for the tiny lift at the corner of his mouth that passed for a smile, the particular set of his eyebrows and the bland look he wore when he said something deadpan, the look that meant he couldn't believe what was happening, and could he leave now? And then there was the way his eyes widened in shock, the pupil contracting so all you could see was a point of black in the blue of the iris, or the way they could hold the faintest glimmer of laughter or a distant constant sorrow, a look that made Daisuke hurt in sympathy, even when he hadn't known what it was.

His hands were long and slender, with sharply defined muscles. Artist's hands, although Daisuke had nearly the same type and his mother always called them thieves' hands. Hiwatari-kun's were meant to hold a brush sure and steady, but he knew that they were as capable of crushing force. It was funny, how the same pair could create and destroy, could be both beautiful and strong.

"We get arthritis early," said Hiwatari-kun, eyes still closed.

Daisuke tried not to leap three feet into the air, and failed. "Y-You're awake?"

"Yes, Niwa," said Hiwatari-kun, "I am awake. I don't know about you, but when someone stares at me for twenty minutes I tend to wake up. I'm funny like that."

Daisuke wondered for a second if Hiwatari-kun was being sarcastic. "Sorry."

"I don't mind," said Hiwatari-kun, sitting up. "It's a change."

Daisuke stared at him.

"To have someone look at me, I mean," said Hiwatari-kun. "Really look at me."

"Um," said Daisuke. Somehow, he didn't want to ask, as if it were something too private for him to know. "Uh... Ice-cream! Would you like some ice cream? There's a stand right there, see?"

"Niwa?"

"And they probably have a lot of good stuff and I'll get it, my treat, what flavor would you like -- yes?"

"You're babbling."

"Oh. Sorry."

"And stop apologizing."

"Sorry."

"Niwa," said Hiwatari-kun, warningly.

"Um, sor-- I mean, do you want ice cream?"

"I'll buy my own," said Hiwatari-kun.

"But I --"

"Niwa," said Hiwatari-kun, with an edge in his voice that somehow managed to suggest that Hiwatari-kun did not wake up in a good mood, and furthermore, was going to get his way come hell or high water, "I will buy my own damn ice cream. I do not want to be at a heist and have Dark demand I pay him back, or remind me at the top of his lungs that I'm buying next time."

"Oh."

::Dammit.::

:You wouldn't --:

::Damn Hikaris, memories like elephants, I swear. Eighty years later and they're STILL sore.::

:You made one of his ancestors pay you back for ice cream that one of my ancestors bought him.:

::Bastard refused,:: said Dark, sulkily. ::It was expensive back then, too.::

:... sometimes I feel really sorry for Hiwatari-kun's family.:

::Huh. They always gave ME twice as much hell as I gave THEM.::

:Why don't I believe that?:

Dark radiated innocence. ::You know me?::

Daisuke decided to ignore this, because Dark was bad enough without encouragement. He thought about offering Hiwatari-kun a hand up, but that would probably, as Dark would say, be a good way to lose his hand. He got up himself and didn't quite watch Hiwatari-kun stumble to his feet.

::Damn. Quicker than usual.::

:Hmm?:

::Nothing.::

:You say that a lot around him, did you know that?:

::Well, yeah.::

Dark was obviously not going to explain what he meant, so Daisuke started toward the ice cream stand, acutely aware of Hiwatari-kun following behind him.

::Watching your butt, too.::

:I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that.:

::'S probably a good idea.::

The vendor looked up and smiled as they came near, obviously assuming they were simply a pair of friends out enjoying the good weather. "Hello," she said. "What can I get you?"

Daisuke smiled weakly. "Hiwatari-kun," he said, "Why don't you go first?"

Hiwatari-kun looked at him and raised an eyebrow. Daisuke shrugged. Hiwatari-kun gave him another look that meant he thought Daisuke was insane but not worth arguing with. "Vanilla, please," he said.

::BORING,:: announced Dark, on cue.

:LOTS of people like vanilla. **I** like vanilla. Vanilla is a perfectly good flavor.:

::Yeah, sure,:: said Dark. ::What are you getting?::

Daisuke braced himself. :I thought strawberry --:

::WHAT? You're as boring as HE is! Look, there's Licorice Fudge Chunk Bubblegum Bits Toffee Nut Mocha Swirl! Get that and sprinkles. And walnuts. And those little chocolate chips.::

Daisuke made a horrible face before he caught himself. :I want strawberry,: he said, attempting firmness. :And you still haven't --:

::BORING BORING BORING. God, don't you ever want to LIVE a little? Why don't you let me get what _I_ want for once?::

:Because,: said Daisuke, :It's my tastebuds we're talking about.:

::BAH. Weenie.::

:I am NOT!:

"Here you go," said the vendor. "Now, er... what would you like?"

Daisuke jumped and looked at her. "Um...I'm still arg -- deciding."

The vendor blinked. Hiwatari-kun took a bite of his ice cream, and gave Daisuke a look that said he knew perfectly well what Daisuke was actually doing. And when had he gotten so good at interpeting Hiwatari-kun's looks?

::Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeease? I want it!::

:It looks DISGUSTING.:

::IT DOES NOT,:: said Dark, outraged. ::YOU try being stuck in the back of someone's head and riding on their tastebuds and tell me if it's disgusting or not!::

:...can you actually taste stuff?:

::Yeah, if it's strong enough,:: said Dark. ::Don't give me that look, I'm used to it.::

Daisuke sighed. "I'd like one scoop of vanilla, one scoop of strawberry, and --" he tried not to make a face "-- a scoop of the Licorice Fudge Chunk Bubblegum Bits Toffee Nut Mocha Swirl. A SMALL one. On top. And sprinkles and walnuts and chocolate chips, please."

::YAY!::

The vendor blinked at him. Daisuke tried not to look embarrassed, and failed.

That was definitely a chuckle being muffled behind Hiwatari-kun's ice-cream. Daisuke pretended he didn't hear the murmured "Would he like some pickles, too?"

\--

The ice cream wasn't that bad, Daisuke thought, eating his way through the top scoop. It was just sort of ... overwhelming, and none of the flavors managed to overpower the others enough to make it so you could pretend it was nothing but one flavor that just happened to have elements of the others.

Actually, it sort of looked kind of cool, like a mixed media painting, only one with a bad palette, done by a four year old. It was the way the blue-black of the licorice looked against the brown chunks of the fudge, and how the lighter mocha color clashed with the bubble gum bits and sprinkles. Looking at it made him even more reluctant to eat it, so he just closed his eyes and ate as rapidly as possible.

::Don't eat that so fast, you'll get a --::

":AAAAAAAAAAHHHH!:"

:: -- brain freeze.::

Daisuke was too busy making horrible faces to snap back at Dark, no matter how much he deserved it. You'd think that you would remember how awful eating ice cream too fast was, the way your head seemed to tighten up and explode all at once, with your ears not-quite ringing and your brain curling up and screaming wordlessly in pain as ice exploded all along your nerve endings. Daisuke always managed to forget, and he was always, always surprised.

"Are you all right?" said Hiawtari-kun.

"Arrrrgh," replied Daisuke. "Ow ow ow ow!"

"I see." Hiwatari-kun took a careful bite of his ice cream. "You shouldn't eat that so fast."

::WOULD HE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS UNHOLY **STOP DOING THAT**?!::

":ARRRRRRRGH OW OW OW!:"

Daisuke hopped up and down in agony, disturbing With, who woke up and hopped out of his hood. He gave Daisuke a look and scampered off. Daisuke shook his head violently, and his cone fell, gently, slowly over. "CRAP!"

Plop, plop, PLOP. Daisuke stared gloomily at his ice cream on the ground. His hand was smeared over with a brown-pink-white mixture of ice cream, which looked even grosser than it had in the cone. "Just my luck."

"You have ice cream all over your hand now," said Hiwatari-kun, master of the obvious. And his ice cream cone, for that matter. It wasn't fair. Hiwatari-kun never did stupid things like get brain freezes and upset his ice cream cone all over the ground.

Daisuke sighed. "Yeah," he said. At least he'd managed to not get it on his sweatshirt. He bet Hiwatari-kun could eat spaghetti wearing a white dress shirt and not get a single spot on it. Or drink a cup of coffee in the morning and not arrive at school and look down to see a huge splotch of brown covering his front.

"All over your hand," said Hiwatari-kun. His voice was a little funny.

::....::

:Hmm?:

::HUH,:: said Dark, sounding much too thoughtful for Daisuke's good.

Daisuke waited for Dark to explain, realized that he wasn't going to, and shook out his hand. It was good and smeared. "Ew."

Hiwatari-kun stared at his hand. Daisuke looked up. Hiwatari-kun swallowed the rest of his cone, reached out, and took Daisuke's hand.

::....he wouldn't have the guts.::

:Um. What are you talking about?:

Hiwatari-kun, still very calm, raised Daisuke's hand to his mouth and licked some of the ice cream off.

Daisuke's brain made a sound like 'mrglefrzleguhEEHHHHHH?!' and ran into a brick wall, where it frantically tried to change gears and did nothing but grind them until there was nothing but screeching noise and the nasty scent of burning oil and rubber.

"I'd better go," said Hiwatari-kun calmly. He dropped Daisuke's hand and walked off, not quickly, but not slowly, either. Daisuke gaped after him. His hand was burning.

Hiwatari-kun, he thought. Tongue. Skin. Ice cream. OH. MY. GOD.

::That was **slick** ,:: said Dark admiringly.

:He just -- ice-cream -- from -- HIWATARI-KUN JUST LICKED ICE-CREAM OFF MY HAND AND ALL YOU CAN SAY IS 'THAT WAS **SLICK** '?!:

::Waste not, want not, I always say.:: Piety sounded very bad on Dark.

:DAAAAAARK!!:

::Well, I personally would have done a lingering look, and possibly kept hold of your hand for just a smidge longer,:: said Dark, in tones of a master critiquing an inferior yet promising work, ::but all in all, a very worthy effort. Considering he hardly ever flirts and all.::

:Hardly ever -- HE'S A BOY! DO I LOOK LIKE A GIRL TO YOU?!:

::You blush like one. It's really cute, did I ever tell you that?::

:DAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRK!!:

::You see, Dai-chan, usually little boys like little girls, but sometimes little boys like OTHER little boys!::

:GEH.:

::And sometimes little girls like other little girls, and there's also little girls and little boys who like both little girls and little boys. Didn't Mummy explain that?::

:S-so Hiwatari-kun --:

::He can't help it, poor bugger. His family's always been Niwa-sexual.::

:Guh.: Daisuke stopped. :'Niwa-sexual'?:

::Shoulda **seen** his mom around Emiko.::

:I DID NOT WANT TO HEAR THAT ABOUT MY MOTHER.:

::It's not like Emiko ever noticed or anything.:: Dark shrugged. ::His mom just kind of ... watched ... her. Like a cat staring at a bird they know they can't catch.::

:Urgh.: Daisuke tried to get rid of that image, and failed. Something else occured to him. :He left.:

::Of **course** he left.::

:Huh?:

:: ... do you work on being that dense, or is it a natural talent?:: It was hard to glare at someone when you lived in their head, but Dark managed it. ::Why do you THINK he bolted?::

: ... oh.:

::Yes, 'oh'.:: Dark was quiet for a long moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was almost gentle. ::Now that you know, what are you going to do? Daisuke.::

\--

Daisuke finally fell asleep in the early morning, and Dark slid from his mind and sat on the bed, stroking Daisuke's hair to lull him more deeply into sleep. Daisuke had spent the whole night worrying about Hiwatari, what to do, what was going to happen, why him why Hiwatari-kun why they had to be enemies why Hiwatari-kun felt that way, on and on until Dark was tempted to send him to sleep, and didn't only because he knew the muddle of worry and questions in Daisuke's head would follow him in his dreams.

Poor little bugger, he thought. Didn't realize you had his heart, did you. And you didn't even steal it, he handed it to you and you didn't even know. It's not your fault. Or maybe it is, but you couldn't help it, any more than he could.

What a mess. Why'd you have to be so beautiful?

Why'd you have to not realize it, Daisuke?

Dark continued to be privately amazed at his hosts and the way they remained completely oblivious to their own beauty. It wasn't even modesty (a trait he had no patience for, even if he had finally stopped trying to stamp it out of the Niwa line), it was a real, honest to God complete lack of clue about the fact that if they were works of art Dark would have stolen them in a heartbeat.

Daisuke especially. Partly because of his parents -- Dark **approved** of Emiko, who besides being lovely and sweet, had a certain evil sense of drama that Dark could only admire, and Kosuke not only had the great good sense to marry Emiko, he was quite a decent piece of work himself -- but partly, Dark thought, because of himself. You couldn't explain what made one piece of metal set with sparkly stones an ugly if expensive piece of junk, and another something to covet, to hold in your hands and study, to put around the neck or in the ears of a woman and stare at it until you saw beyond the flash of diamond and gleam of gold and into its heart. It simply was. Daisuke had that, the something that separated the junk from the art, but you couldn't say what it was.

Daisuke didn't know, might never know, what a work of art he was. If he had been oil and canvas or marble and stone, Dark would have cheerfully faced ten thousand Hiwataris to steal him.

Hiwatari knew. He had the Hikari eye for quality, the unerring instinct that said, This is real. That is not. This is art. That is an overpriced splodge of oil on a canvas. Dark knew, none better, that Hiwatari knew and appreciated what a beautiful object Daisuke was. Which led to more problems, when you thought about it, but the main difference between Dark and Hiwatari was that the former was content to make a daily trek to admire something beautiful in a museum or gallery, whereas Dark saw something beautiful as a logical reason to remove it somewhere where he could enjoy it all to himself.

:Dark?: Daisuke's mental voice was sleepy, but not annoyed.

::Yeah?::

:What are you thinking so hard about? 's keeping me up.:

And another reason why Daisuke was so special was the fact that he had won some genetic lottery and had enough latent power to make life extremely interesting not only for himself, Dark, Hiwatari and Krad, but for every living organism within a five mile radius. Dark had yet to convince himself that Daisuke needed to know this. Even he had barely become aware of it, and Dark operated on the theory that if you had to spring a shock on someone at least you should be able to explain it to them afterward.

It did explain why Daisuke was so aware of him, though.

::Nuffin' much. Sorry.::

:'Sokay. You were thinking about art, weren't you?:

::Yeah, kind of. Go to sleep, Daisuke.::

:Dark?: Daisuke's voice was even sleepier now. :That reminds me ... why do you steal things?:

::Cos I can.::

:...oh...,: said Daisuke, and Dark felt him drift off to sleep.

He did steal things because he could. But he also stole them because he was a possessive son of a bitch.

 

\---------------------  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOME NOTES:
> 
> Here's a hint for people reading -- all the chapter titles are song titles. If you can correctly identify all of them, I'll ... be sort of impressed. (Unless you're like, Sakkit or Amy, in which case you probably gave me the songs in the first place.) I dunno, maybe write you a short or something. The fic is also named after a song, but only two or three of the chapters have titles from that particular band.
> 
> This story was begun sometime in late 2002 or 2003, I forget which; I think 2002. It started with an initial image of With riding in Daisuke's sweatshirt hood. I'd gotten about 60K of it done before a combination of RL and a feeling that it needed to ferment for a while made me lay it aside. (The projected final length is at least 120K, probably closer to 200+ -- I count fic by kilobyte length because I write in plain text, if you're wondering. My average fic is 6-10K.) I HOPE to finish it by the end of Nov 2004, but this is me and this is my brain, so you can probably tell how likely that's going to be. Some of the ideas are taken from vols 7 and 8 of the manga -- although I did a lot of the work before I had a chance to see vol 9, and I was spot on several things. Which sort of scared me, frankly.
> 
> (Someone was wondering -- yes, the first bit was taken more or less from the manga, if 'more or less' means 'went around grabbing people and shaking them until they hacked up something like a translation for me and then rewrote the stupid thing because it didn't go with the fic'. Aha.)
> 
> Thanks to Meia and Crysi for coming up with the sounds of Daisuke's brain going BLORK.
> 
> Thanks for reading! And thanks for the reviews, they make me feel like I'm not typing into a vacuum. X3 Don't expect the next chapter for a while; the next chapter has about 8K worth of text so far and I think I have to write a heist. SHOOT ME NOW.  
> 


	3. interlude: a world without mirrors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is part of the story line. Sort of. It'll make sense. Eventually. I think.

(interlude : a world without mirrors 01)

(This then is the past; unchangable and unchanging, frozen and perfect.

Dark walks along the gallery of his memories, brushing gently against the painted faces of Niwa now sleeping dreamlessly. Hello, my friends. Are you well are you happy now? I miss you.

The first of them, frozen in surprise, staring at something. Dark, maybe, or perhaps the Hikari of the time, standing above him as he crouched over his prize.

Someone else, gentle like Daisuke but not as strong, his back against a wall and holding something against his chest, wrapped in silk. Consumption took him, Dark remembers. He coughed and coughed and was always glad to transform because then for a while he could breathe. Dark had liked him.

Little Niwa boys, sometimes raised knowing their fate and sometimes not, as if not knowing what waited for them, watched over them as they learned their trade, would give them a little precious freedom. Daisuke toddling around, serious and earnest, learning the names of every work of art in the house, every lock ever made. Learning bolts and chains and handcuffs, learning the tricks for forcing a knot when someone was tying you up, the way to tell traps and pits and not get caught. Daisuke figuring out a new lock, Daisuke smiling, Daisuke learning to run and jump and dodge.

Niwa wives, Niwa daughters, brooded over and cared for until they left him again; Dark was always a little in love with them, he supposes. Girls coming into the Niwa house, dressed in heavy formal robes. Dark watching from the shadows as Niwa men smiled at them. Little girls running around, in geta and kimono in his earliest memories, then shoes and Western clothing, but always the prettiest girls in the world to Dark.

Emiko, his darling Emiko, his favorite of all the Niwa daughters, pulling the door open and stepping fearlessly into the treasure rooms, calling for him. Pleading, crying, why can't she be a thief too? Dark in the shadows, watching her helplessly. I'm sorry, little one. You can't, I can't, oh my pretty girl, don't cry. Don't cry. You're brave, you're a good girl, so please don't cry.

Hikari faces now, arrogant or tired or sad; Hiwatari's mother staring half-angrily at Emiko (why do you want him? why do you want to be Dark? her eyes say, why can't I stop looking at you?), the first Hikari with his pride and genius. Hiwatari staring at him, steady and intense. I won't let you have him, his face says. I'm tired but I have enough strength for this. Please, let it stop. I'm the last, haven't we paid enough?

Finally, and always, Krad.)


	4. what is this feeling?

Daisuke's mother disliked headphones for the same reason Daisuke loved them. He could put on some music and ignore the rest of the household while he tried to do his homework. It didn't work very well; the volume that his mother, Towa-chan and With could sustain was somewhere between 'earsplitting' and 'agonizing'. At least he was making an effort.

Not that headphones protected him from With trying to climb up his chair or his mother standing behind him. Staring. With the look that meant she had _given birth to him_. In blood and pain and sweat and tears. And here the child she had carried for _nine months_ was _ignoring her_. It was a physical sensation, like someone poking him very lightly with a very sharp needle. Repeatedly.

Daisuke sighed and hit the pause button. Porno Graffiti faded out, replaced by the distant sound of Towa-chan singing and thumping things around. "Yes, Mom?"

"Oh, nothing, dear," said his mother, radiating sweetness and light. "But if you have a second to spare from your homework..."

"I'm almost done," said Daisuke, mentally waving his test a sad farewell. 'A second to spare', in his mother's world, meant 'you aren't getting anything done for the rest of the night except what I want you to do'.

"That's good, because I need to brief you on the job."

Daisuke winced.

"And I've already sent out the notice, so don't even think about it."

"It isn't that," said Daisuke. His mother had an genius for the absolutely worst times to schedule a job. Sometimes in the dark of night he woke up and wondered if she did it on purpose. Then again, even his mother couldn't have read his mind and found out why he would rather eat razors than face Hiwatari-kun right now. He totally had to stop thinking about it before his head burst into flames.

::Emiko is evil incarnate and I am very proud of her.::

:....:

::What?::

:You WOULD be.:

Dark radiated innocence.

"Please tell me there isn't anything weird about this one," said Daisuke.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Mom, the last time you pulled me away from my homework to brief me on a job, I ended up spending most of my school trip _trapped in a mirror_ trying to find Dark."

"That was Hiwatari-kun's fault," said his mother, turning her nose up.

Daisuke gave her a look.

"And there's nothing weird about this one at all," said Emiko. "It's /beautiful/."

Daisuke managed not to groan. "So what is it?"

"Shiraha," said his mother, holding out a picture.

Daisuke looked at it. "How pretty!" he said, surprised.

::...so he did copy it.::

:Eh?:

"And why are you so surprised, young man?"

Daisuke opened his mouth, closed it again, and said, cravenly, "It's really neat how it balances on the base, don't you think?"

His mother glared at him. Daisuke ducked his head. There was no point in being suicidal and admiting that he was surprised every time his mother liked something that was actually nice-looking. This was the woman whose favorite piece in the vault was a giant porcelain rabbit. (In his darker moments, Daisuke suspected Hiwatari-kun's family of actively making fun of his own family's ... catholic ... taste.) "Um, what's the history behind it?"

"Well, it was made about a hundred years ago by Hikari Reiji --"

::May the poor bugger's soul rest in peace, for they found him in pieces.::

:WHAT?!:

:: 'sa long story.::

"-- and disappeared after his unfortunate and untimely death --"

::-- which I had absolutely nothing to do with.::

:/........./:

"-- and recently appeared at an estate sale, and was bought by the Kinomoto Foundation for their museum."

Daisuke looked at the photo. Even there, it had something about it, the vibrant quality that marked Hikari art. "Is it dangerous?"

"Well, nooooooo...."

::Not /exactly/...::

Daisuke moaned. "I'm going to die, aren't I? It's going to chew me up and spit me out and everybody will say 'what happened to Niwa?' and you'll have to make up a tragic accident and bribe people to change the records and there probably won't be enough left of me to /cremate/."

::It probably won't hurt /you/.::

:Wow, that's the most comforting thing I've heard since 'don't worry, Dai-chan, it runs in the family!'.:

::It's only a copy, anyway.::

:We're going after a COPY?!:

::No, it's a real piece of Hikari work. It's just that compared to what he copied it from? As harmless as a Mona Lisa on velvet.::

:That's even less comforting.:

His mother gave him a bright smile. "So all you have to do is go fetch it! Piece of cake!"

"...."

::.....::

Daisuke went to the door and poked his head out. "DAD?" he shouted. "Do you have the file for the Shiraha thingy?"

"Downstairs!" called his father.

"Don't you _trust_ me?" demanded his mother.

"Of course I do," said Daisuke, marching toward the stairs. "But not when you call something 'a piece of cake'."

Kosuke had taken on the task of organizing the Niwa archives after his marriage -- something Dark had once compared to Hercules and the stables, without a handy river. Considering the size of the archives and the Niwa tendency to be obscure in their cross-references, he'd made quite a bit of progress. Eventually he was going to have it all indexed and scanned onto a file system. For now, though, he had it more or less organized by Niwa thief.

He pulled down a heavy book, sneezed, and went for a dustcloth. "I'm warning you," he said, "Whoever did these notes has the strangest code I've seen yet."

"Crud," said Daisuke.

::He wrote great filthy poetry, though.::

"And I hate to ask, but could you see if Dark remembers any of it? It's nearly alchemic level code."

Daisuke pulled a face, and nodded. Kosuke patted him on the shoulder and left him staring gloomily at the book.

Daisuke read for a while, making notes for his father as Dark pulled up memories. :Hey,: he said, suddenly, :The character for his name is nearly the same as Hiwatari-kun's.:

::Yeah, Hiwatari takes after him. Wouldn't call him /nice/, but a lot less insane than usual.::

:Was he the one you --: began Daisuke uneasily.

::No, that was his son Reiichi. Hiwatari's like him, too.:: Dark chuckled. ::I thought Dainosuke was going to die when I pulled that one.::

:I thought Mom said Reiji-san died young?:

::Mmm... he was about twenty, I think.::

:But he had a son?:

::The short version is that he married at sixteen, and Reiichi was born when he was eighteen.::

:....And the long version?:

::She was a real taking little thing,:: said Dark, wistfully. ::Hair like ink. Usually she was quiet and all but when she got this look in her eye, Daiichi and Reiji jumped before she opened her mouth.::

:Er. 'DAIICHI and Reiji'?:

::Man, were we gone over her. She had the prettiest eyes. Hiwatari kind of favors her, too, come to think of it.::

:They liked the same girl.:

::Yep.::

:But she married Reiji-san?:

::Yep.::

:Did, she, er...: began Daisuke again.

::Pfft. Even money on her against Krad, any day.::

:......:

::Hey, I never said anything against their TASTE, did I?::

 

\---

Some days it wasn't worth getting out of bed, even for the chance of seeing Niwa and possibly locking a door behind him.

Satoshi stared at the discreet black car waiting for him and sighed. He'd woken up with a headache -- and now this.

"Hello, sir," said his father's driver, bowing. "Your father thought it would be nice to have breakfast before you went to school."

Satoshi didn't even bother dignifying that with an answer. He simply got in the car and allowed the door to be shut behind him. Satoshi turned his head and watched the city through the expensively tinted windows. Everything seemed distant through the grey glass. The city, he thought, couldn't see him through the windows.

The car slid silently up to his father's mansion, and he got out of the car.

"You can keep your bag in the car, sir," said the driver. A command disguised as a suggestion, he thought.

"No," he said. "I'll keep it with me."

The door swung open as he climbed the steps, and an older man bowed as he held it open. "Hello, sir," he murmured. "Shall I take your bag?"

Satoshi tightened his grip on it. "No, thank you," he said tightly.

"As you wish, sir," said the butler -- what was his name? Satoshi could never remember. "Your father is in the breakfast room."

The mansion was about twenty years old and full of exciting sweeping angles that set Satoshi's teeth on edge. The architect had some sort of grudge against straight lines or even symmetry, and none of the angles quite matched. Apparently they were to give a thrilling feel of modernity to the house, but mostly they made Satoshi seasick.

He followed the butler's dignified back through the halls, trying to ignore the things on the walls. His adoptive father had a taste for modern work, which Satoshi did not share. He looked at a splot of red on a green canvas and tried not to wonder how much his father had spent on it.

Niwa had done a picture in art class once, of a swing under a tree. It was an old-fashioned sort of swing, the type that was just a board with two holes drilled in it for ropes, and the ropes lashed around a limb of the tree. Niwa usually worked in acrylics or oils but he'd used watercolors for that picture. Satoshi spent the entire time he was supposed to be working on his own painting just looking at it.

...whereas, he thought, vaguely chopped-looking nudes in acid green just gave him a headache.

"This way, sir," murmured the butler.

It wouldn't be any good to dawdle. The butler opened the door with a bow, and Satoshi braced himself and walked in.

The breakfast room was large, and white, and filled with natural light from the wall that faced the garden. That wall was fitted French windows. The light did nothing to soften the angles of the room, which reminded Satoshi of an operating theatre.

"Satoshi!" said his father, getting up and embracing him for the benefit of the butler. He smelled of expensive cologne, and it made Satoshi's headache worse. He stood stiffly until he was released.

In the back of his mind, Krad woke a little, like something old and vicious smelling an intruder. Krad loathed his father, not that Satoshi could blame him.

"So cold," complained his father, smiling lightly. "It's been so long since we've seen each other, too."

Whose fault was that? thought Satoshi. "Yes, Father," he said.

"Sit down, eat," said his father, waving at the table. "That will be all, Hudson."

Hudson bowed and left.

"He didn't take your bag?" said Satoshi's father, as Satoshi sat, reluctantly, and looked at the food spread over his table. Satoshi didn't like breakfast on his good days, and the sight of all the things on the table turned his stomach today. He chose a piece of toast and poured himself a cup of coffee. His father probably would have poured it with cream and sugar and he would have had to drink it without complaining.

"He offered," he said, "but I'd rather keep it, sir."

"That's rude, you know," said his father with deceptive mildness. "It makes it seem like you can't wait to get out of here."

Satoshi looked at him for a long minute. "My apologies, sir."

His father chose not to notice that Satoshi didn't say what he was apologizing for. "You should eat more than toast, Satoshi. It's not healthy to skip breakfast."

"I'm not hungry, sir," said Satoshi.

"Surely you could force down some bacon. You're still a growing boy, you know."

Satoshi deliberately picked up one piece of bacon and nibbled at it slowly. "May I ask why you wanted to see me, sir?"

"I just wanted to see your face," said his father, smiling. "It's been so long. And we've both been busy."

Satoshi finished the bacon and waited. The French doors were open, but he couldn't hear any birds in the garden.

"But," said his father, "now that I've had the pleasure of seeing you, I must admit to wondering how the Dark operation is going."

Great, sir, he thought. Absolutely on track, if by 'on track' you mean 'I know who Dark is and can't do a damn thing about it except fight him like an idiot bound by generations of fate. Also, I licked ice cream off his other personality's hand yesterday. That was great, except for the part where I had to run away before my other personality could take over and kill him.' "As well as can be expected, sir."

"Still no headway?"

"Some," said Satoshi carefully. "I have some reports in my bag, if you'd like to see them. There's a notice for tonight."

"No, I believe I have copies," said his father. "Although it's been nearly a year since he appeared, hasn't it? One would expect more ... progress."

Krad was definitely awake now, his presence sharp and cold in the back of Satoshi's mind. _/Scum./_

 _He's my legal guardian,_ Satoshi replied. His head hurt, a dull throbbing ache in his temples.

_/He's still scum./_

Satoshi couldn't pinch the bridge of his nose or rub his forehead or neck, as much as he wanted to. "It's a very delicate task, sir."

His father lifted his eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Yes, sir," said Satoshi, looking back at him. They stared at each other for a long minute, until finally his father picked up his coffee cup and took a deliberate sip. Satoshi didn't relax.

"I must say, I thought that you would be quicker about it," said his father.

"I'm very sorry, sir," said Satoshi, steadily.

There was another long silence while Satoshi tried to ignore Krad's rising anger, cold and hard, in his mind. "Well," said his father, "I don't mind you amusing yourself with him."

Satoshi held his tongue.

"But perhaps you could get serious soon," said his father, lightly. "People are starting to wonder, you know."

"Is that so, sir?"

His father got up and walked around the table, and laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. "You're a very talented young man. A credit to the Hiwatari family. People expect great things from you."

Satoshi felt weighted down, trapped. "Yes, sir."

"I'm glad you understand me," said his father, smiling kindly at him.  
\----

Daisuke dropped into his seat at the last second, turned around to check Hiwatari-kun's place (and when had THAT become part of his routine?) and was slightly relieved to see that Hiwatari-kun was there and bent over his notebook. Hiwatari-kun actually looked a little pale, but then, as Dark would say, Hiwatari-kun always looked a little pale, like a zombie.

He tried to turn his attention back to his books, but Hiwatari-kun was like a magnet that kept dragging his eyes to him. Hiwatari-kun ... was not well, he thought, worriedly, studying him.

Hiwatari-kun turned around, as if he had felt Daisuke's stare. He stared back at Daisuke for a long, long minute, and then deliberately turned and ignored him.

Well, of course Hiwatari-kun had -- he stopped that line of thought firmly, because otherwise he was going to turn bright red again and Dark would never let him hear the last of it -- and maybe he was feeling a little awkward. But ...

Something was wrong, he thought.

\----

It was a typical heist, as Dark heists went -- about five hundred screaming females fantasizing about Dark and producing a nearly visible cloud of estrogen, Saehara in a climbing harness up in a tree with a camera, his father cursing a blue streak and directing an insanely complicated plan of barriers and traps, Saga Keiji filming anything he could get within his lens (Dark had a theory that Saga was hoping against hope to prove Daisuke was Dark, get it on film and then use it as blackmail when Daisuke had left the puppy stage and entered the 'looks like his father, only BETTER' one to make him sign on with his agency. Daisuke's opinion of this theory ranged from horror to unprintable) and news cameras everywhere.

And, of course, Dark flying in, grabbing the target, and laughing like a lunatic at the police officers trying to ambush him, and Satoshi calmly bypassing the traps (even the ones he didn't know about) and waiting for him. Thence to the usual exchange of compliments and best wishes for an eternity spent in a warm climate, followed by Dark making his escape while blowing kisses to his fans.

And the aftermath. Long hours of reports and owners screaming and prodding the females searching hopefully for black feathers (Satoshi refused to think why they wanted the feathers. There were some things that it was just better not to ask about) home. The worst of it was the reports, though. Long, tedious forms to fill out three times and stamp everywhere, written reports about who was there and how Dark had taken the damn thing (Saehara the Elder had once threatened to write 'he came in on a fucking huge set of wings', but that was after five solid hours of paperwork) and what had gone wrong and why they thought it had gone wrong and how much the owners would have to pay for new windows, since Dark seemed to think that glass cuts were something that happened to other people.

Satoshi took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Every time he closed his eyes he saw paperwork dancing gleeful polkas in front of his eyelids. "I'm taking a break," he said to nobody in particular.

Saehara the Elder grunted around his cigarette. Satoshi left the room and walked outside.

Satoshi closed the station door behind him and took a breath of blessedly smoke-free air. He didn't mind fresh cigarette smoke -- outside, at a distance, from someone who understood the basic courtesy of standing downwind -- but after the first two hours of everybody doing paperwork in the office the air was tinged grey, and smelt of burned coffee, half-stubbed cigarette butts and takeout food begining to develop complex civilizations in their styrofoam containers. Probably inventing writing, by the smell of some of it. Or the wheel. The air outside was crisp, and if not exactly clean, at least not stale. Satoshi closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

"Paperwork's a bitch, huh," said a voice from the alley.

Satoshi opened his eyes. "Yes, it is. The first thing I'm going to do if I ever catch you is make you fill out all the forms for your last heist."

"Wouldn't that fall under Cruel and Unusual?"

"We're in Japan. Stop watching American crime shows."

"I like that CSI one," said Dark, thoughtfully. "Only hardly any of the criminals seem to be able to plan. Pretty damn stupid of them."

"It's called the triumph of justice," said Satoshi. "You know, the thieves and murderers go to jail, the police close the case, the citizens breathe a sigh of relief?"

"Huh," said Dark. "It's not justice if the bad guys are just stupid."

Satoshi decided not to pursue Dark's idea of justice and right, or his taste in TV. He linked his fingers and stretched out his arms, trying to work out the kinks in his back. "What are you doing here, Dark?"

Dark melted out of the alley, a shadow from the shadows. "Here." He tossed something.

Satoshi caught it. "Fire Heart Coffee?"

"It's red. And sweet. And warm. I thought you'd like it."

Satoshi stared at him. "I'm surprised it's not espresso."

"What, you like dark things?"

"Not particularly."

"I didn't think so."

Satoshi studied the can's seal. "Is it drugged?"

"Nope, just got it out of the machine. I even PAID for it."

Satoshi snorted, but opened the can and took a drink. "And?"

"And what?" Dark somehow managed to look nearly innocent.

"You'll understand if I don't believe you got me a drink and came here to give it to me just because you like me so much," said Satoshi, dryly.

Dark shrugged. "You are the closest thing to a human being the Hikari family's ever spawned."

"Try again," suggested Satoshi.

"Maybe I wanted to talk to you."

Satoshi's eyebrow shot up. "About what?"

"About things you like. And things you want but can't have."

Satoshi stilled. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do," said Dark. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"Even if I did -- and I don't -- I don't see how what I like is any business of yours."

"No?" said Dark, his voice soft and almost lazy. Satoshi didn't quite stiffen, but he shifted, his eyes narrowing alertly. "Let's try it this way. You've got good taste, Mr Commander, Sir. You only want the best. You only notice the best."

"Thank you," said Satoshi, in a tone that meant exactly the opposite.

"I don't like it when people want what's mine, Hiwatari."

"Ah," said Satoshi, irony dripping from his words, "I can't have what you've rightfully stolen?"

"No, you can't," said Dark. "What's mine is mine. And what's mine stays mine." A deliberate pause. "Especially works of ... art."

"I am not a thief."

"You aren't?" Dark's eyebrow arched up.

"Unlike you," said Satoshi, an edge of anger creeping into his voice, "I don't feel the need to take any glittery object I see."

"I wouldn't call it glittery," said Dark, thoughtfully. "Beautiful. Brilliant. Valuable. But not glittery."

Satoshi put the can on the ground and straightened with elaborate unconcern. "If all you want to do is talk nonsense, I'm afraid I've got better things to do with my time."

"I'm not talking nonsense," said Dark, his voice suddenly dangerous. "I'm talking about how I'm a real selfish bastard, Hiwatari, and the way I protect what's mine. I'm talking about something you want. Something precious."

"I don't know why you feel the need to try to threaten me," said Satoshi. "I don't want anything that belongs to **you**."

Dark just looked at him, like something feral waiting patiently for the chance to strike.

Satoshi sighed. "Some things are too precious to own. Some things are too beautiful to take. You know that as well as I do."

"But they can be given," said Dark. "You can still want them." His wings flared, darker splashes of night against the star-filled sky, and he rose into the air. "I'm going to warn you once, Hiwatari, and only because you deserve it. If something you want comes into your hands, it had better be because it chose to be there. And if you tarnish it, or break it..."

"I do not harm beautiful things," said Satoshi, tightly. "If I'm afraid I'll hurt it, I don't touch it."

"Keep it that way." Dark's wings gave a beat and he rose higher in the air. "You might as well drink the rest of that," he called as he flew away, an edge of mockery in his voice. "It's a shame to deny yourself **everything** you like."

\--

There was a long, thoughtful silence inside the place where Daisuke stayed while Dark was in control. :Dark?: said Daisuke, finally.

::Yeah?::

:...what was that about?:

Dark chuckled, catching an updraft and sailing on it, just for the feeling of the wind carrying him. ::Art.::

A suspicious pause. :What SORT of art?:

Dark laughed out loud and swooped down toward the city. ::Amber, Daisuke. The prettiest damn piece of amber you ever saw.::


	5. the impression that I get

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> internal evidence suggests this is the tenth year anniversary of me starting this fic. I want to die.

He lay in bed for a moment, listening to the sound of Emiko-san breathing, soft and even, beside him. Then he heard the sound that had woken him again, soft footsteps going down the stairs. Dark must be awake -- and if he was making any noise at all, it was an indirect invitation to anybody who might be awake to come downstairs and join him, and Dark knew that the only one who woke when they heard Dark going downstairs at three am was Kosuke.

He was never sure, but he thought Dark liked him, and trusted him in a different way than he did Emiko-san and her father. He liked and trusted them because they were family. Kosuke was not a Niwa. Sometimes he thought that was why Dark liked him.

(That, and Kosuke thought that Dark was prepared to like anybody who made Emiko-san happy. Kosuke hoped he made her happy, he really did. She made him happy. So Dark liking him probably meant that he made her happy. Kosuke tried not to think what Dark would have done to someone who made his beloved Emiko unhappy.)

Kosuke slid out of bed and put on his slippers. He tried not to think about it because technically it was his son he was talking to at three am. He felt like he should be sending Dark back to bed because he had school tomorrow -- but then again Daisuke never showed any signs that he minded or even remembered Dark's late nights.

And Kosuke kind of liked talking to Dark at three am.

He went downstairs quietly, holding his breath at the squeaking stair that none of the others, even Daisuke, seemed to step on, and moving to the kitchen. There was a faint, glowing light in the kitchen, which appeared and then faded.

Kosuke sighed. For an immortal spirit, Dark had awful tastes sometimes. He wondered if Emiko-san knew about it. Knowing her, she did but pretended not to notice as long as Daisuke didn't eat them. He walked into the kitchen.

"Hang on a second," said Dark's voice. Kosuke waited until Dark flipped on the light above the sink. Dark didn't like full light when he was up late; he prefered the shadows but he knew that Kosuke didn't have good night vision. (Well, thought Kosuke, compared to the rest of the world, his night vision was fine. It was just compared to the Niwas that he was blind in the dark.) The kettle on the stove was already steaming gently, and there was a mug on the counter beside it, with a tea-strainer filled with loose tea, ready for the water.

And it would be, Kosuke knew, the type of tea he liked best. He also knew better than to say a word about it.

He looked at the table and shook his head. Dark grinned at him. "I LIKE it," he said.

"I know you do," said Kosuke, walking to the stove and pouring water into the cup. "But Choco-Frosted Sugar Bombs aren't something you'd expect Dark Mousy to eat."

Dark chuckled. "When I was with Daiki we used to stop at this little taiyaki stand after a heist. His mother thought it was terrible."

"Did you bring her any?" asked Kosuke.

"Of course we did," said Dark. "We'd bring her sweet potatoes, too. She said we were only trying to get on her good side and she was ashamed of us." He smiled, an affectionate remembering smile. "She'd complain about it the entire time she was eating. Daiki's father used to buy her sweet potatoes when they were courting, I remember. She thought that was terrible, too."

Kosuke shook his head. "I'm sure his mother was happy you brought her some," he said, lifting the strainer off the cup and shaking it gently to drain the last of the water from the tea leaves.

"Oh, she was," said Dark. "But she was a terror for propriety." He crunched on a spoonful of cereal. "Nice girl," he added. "Looked just like a - a Girl's Festival princess doll."

Kosuke dumped the used tea leaves into the compost bucket and turned around, raising an eyebrow. "I didn't know you'd ever seen one."

"I STOLE one," said Dark proudly. "The entire set, prince, princess, retainers and all. 'Course I sort of think he made them for the Niwa girls anyway. But I stole them, fair and square."

Kosuke, unfortunately, had just sat down and was in the middle of taking a sip of tea. He choked, and Dark leaned over and grabbed the cup before he dropped it. He set it on the table and got up to pound Kosuke helpfully on the back.

"WHAT?" he gasped, finally.

"Serious," said Dark. "The Niwa I was with had this sister about ten years younger than he was. The Hikari -- man, what was his name? -- just so happened to make a princess doll set. Not that I call a Girl's Festival set where the princess has a red-feather pattern kimono much of a coincidence."

Kosuke wheezed.

"She was really tickled with it."

Kosuke boggled. Nearly twenty years he'd been a member of this family, and they still managed to surprise him. "Why did he --"

"He liked little girls," said Dark. "Not in _that_ way, I mean, he just, y'know, liked 'em. Type of guy who'd paint a kite -- he did beautiful kites, I think we have one somewhere -- and just find a kid to give it to. I remember one he did that looked so much like a butterfly you expected it to land on a flower."

Kosuke blinked. "Kites?"

"Not something you'd think a Hikari would do, huh?" said Dark, eating cereal.

"You sound..." Kosuke hesitated. "You know the Hikari family very well, don't you?"

"We go a long way back, yeah."

"You seem fond of some of them," said Kosuke.

"They weren't all crazy bastards," said Dark, as if making a great concession. "Any more than all the Niwa were all like Daiki and Daisuke. They're just people, you know?"

Kosuke nodded.

"And it can't be easy carrying around Krad like some time bomb waiting to go off," added Dark.

"I've noticed..." said Kosuke, slowly. "In the records. The Hikari clan doesn't live long, do they?"

"No," said Dark. There was an edge to his voice, a warning.

Kosuke went on anyway. He had to know. "How long does Hiwatari-kun have?"

"How should I know?"

"Dark," said Kosuke, looking at him. "You know them better than anybody."

Dark sighed. "Honestly? They're like drones. They live just long enough to breed."

"Mid-twenties, then?"

"If that." Dark poked at his cereal with his spoon. "Dammit, it's all soggy. I hate it when it gets all soggy."

"Dark," said Kosuke, gently. "I need to know." He was not a Niwa. He would never be a Niwa. But he was bound up with them now, as surely as if he had been born into the clan.

Dark looked at him. Kosuke was stuck by the weariness in his eyes, the weight of his long existence living from one Niwa son to the next. "You know that Hiwatari is the last of the direct Hikari line."

Kosuke nodded.

"There are no branch clans left," said Dark flatly. "The Niwa -- we've still got some branches here and there. If Daisuke gets run over tomorrow, the worst that would happen is that I would have to wait for one of the girls to have a son. At best -- Emiko's still able to have children. I wait. There'll be another Niwa eventually."

Kosuke shivered.

"Krad does not have that option," said Dark. "Hiwatari is the /last/, Kosuke."

Kosuke swallowed. "That wasn't what I asked."

"Hikari Satoshi is dying," said Dark, very calmly. "He won't live long enough to produce an heir. He doesn't _want_ to."

Kosuke stared at the table. Better that than Dark's inhuman eyes. "Which? I mean, doesn't want to have an heir, or --"

"He doesn't want to live," said Dark, still in that terrible, calm voice. "You don't have any idea what it's like for him. Remember when I had to fight Krad? And Daisuke got knocked out?"

Kosuke nodded.

"He lives with that drain every day," said Dark. "Every day of his life, Kosuke. Try to imagine that."

Kosuke stared down at his tea. A reflecting image, he thought. You could tell fortunes in reflections. "How long?"

"I don't know," said Dark, tired and very, very old. "But this is it, Kosuke. This is the fucking /end/. It's going to be settled in this generation, one way or the other."

"There's nothing we can do," said Kosuke. He meant it as a question, but it came out as a statement.

"Pray," said Dark. "Hope. Love your son. What else can you do?"

There was a long silence. Kosuke tried to imagine Hiwatari-kun waiting to die, waiting for Dark to come and knowing that his appearence would bring him one step closer to his end.

"It's not so bad," said Dark suddenly. Kosuke looked up and Dark grinned at him, sly and amused. "He's got one thing going for him, at least."

"What's that?"

Dark chuckled, like there was a joke he was keeping to himself. "Daisuke," he said. "You think he's going to stand there and let his _friend_ die? He's half you, Kosuke."

Kosuke blinked.

Still chuckling, Dark closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he was Daisuke, sleepy and a little confused and ordinary.

Daisuke rubbed his eyes. "What am I doing in the kitchen?" He looked down and made a face. "Ew. He always makes me clean up his messes."

"Daisuke," said Kosuke.

Daisuke blinked at him. "Dad? What are you doing up?" He didn't wait for an answer before picking up the bowl and stumbling to the sink.

Kosuke watched him. He remembered the day Daisuke was born, sitting on the bed with Emiko-san. Look, she had said, his hair is sticking up just like yours.

He's got your eyes, he replied, fascinated by the way Daisuke's hands opened and closed. And your hands.

The baby opened his eyes and for one moment they were the milky unfocused color of a newborn -- and then his pupils slit and his irises turned purple. He stared at them for a long moment, old eyes in a newborn's face, and then he blinked and they were ordinary baby eyes.

Oh, said Emiko-san, softly, reverently. He's a Niwa. He's really a Niwa.

Kosuke had shivered, but he managed a smile when Emiko leaned against him and said, drowsily, Finally ... we can have carp flags ... at Boy's Festival ... and fell asleep, smiling.

"Dad?" said Daisuke. He sounded almost awake.

"Hmm?" said Kosuke. His son had hair that stuck up like his and Emiko-san's eyes and her slender, capable hands. How had he helped create him?

"I'm going back to bed," said his son.

Kosuke nodded. "Daisuke --"

"Yeah?"

Kosuke hestiated, and shook his head. He got up and rumpled Daisuke's hair. "Sleep tight."

"Night, Dad," said Daisuke, and stumbled out of the room.

Kosuke sat for a long moment, staring into his tea, and then got slowly and rinsed out his cup. Ordinary things to be doing, he thought, in an ordinary room, when somewhere else there was a boy who slept -- did he sleep at all? -- and woke alone, waiting to die.

He turned out the light and felt his way out of the kitchen and up to their room. Emiko-san hadn't moved. Kosuke looked at her, watching the way she breathed, soft and even, and then turned and went quietly into Daisuke's room.

Hikari Rio had died shortly after her son's birth. The records were vague on the reasons; a secondary infection she'd never quite recovered from, side effects of something or another. They just live long enough to breed, Dark had said. He wondered if she had ever gone to her son's room to watch him sleep. He wondered what she had thought.

Daisuke was bundled under his covers, his head half-covered by With. With liked sleeping on Daisuke, for some reason; he always had, although when Daisuke was younger he had slept on the pillow beside him. Kosuke pulled the covers gently over his feet and smoothed them down, then removed With and put him on the pillow beside Daisuke.

Pray, Dark said. Hope. Love your son.

I've been doing that since the day I found out he was going to be born, thought Kosuke. Is it going to be enough?

There was no answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> taiyaki: a traditional sweet -- basically it's a pancake shaped like a fish filled with red bean paste. Yes, it sounds strange. IT IS TOTALLY THE BEST THING EVER.
> 
> Girl's Festival: On March 3rd, there's a festival especially for little girls, and one of the things traditionally done is setting out a set of dolls that represent the Emperor, Empress and their Court.
> 
> Boy's Festival: May 5th, one of the things traditionally done is flying carp-shaped flags for every boy in the household.
> 
> (both festivals, obviously, involve LOTS OF CANDY.)
> 
> "Not that I call a Girl's Festival set where the princess has a red-feather pattern on her kimono much of a coincidence." -- the name 'Niwa' is actually written with the characters for 'red' (or 'rust') and 'feather', so basically it's a pun on their name.
> 
> All this backstory I'm dumping in? Is pretty much NOT canon because you find out buggerall about the Niwa and Hikari clan history during the actual manga. 


	6. another perfect day

Daisuke woke up.

Daisuke removed With from his face and tried to remember what breathing was like without fine white fur in your face.

Daisuke turned over.

Daisuke screamed.

Towa-chan screamed back.

Fifteen minutes later, a piece of toast in his mouth and running for school, Daisuke wondered why his life was so weird.

Ten minutes after that, being choked by Saehara while the latter explained that DARK HAD SENT A NOTICE and TONIGHT HE WAS GETTING GREAT PICTURES FOR SURE, Daisuke remembered why. He also remembered his mother had told him to be home on time, and promised himself a lunch period of calling his mother repeatedly on his cell phone and yelling hysterically at her.

Not, he thought, dropping into his seat and discovering that With had added a decorative edge to his homework, in a pattern called 'I have incisors and you aren't paying attention to me', that it would do any good, but he felt he should make the effort.

Satoshi woke up.

Satoshi tried to sit up, and had to lie down again until the dizzy spell passed.

Satoshi made his way very carefully to the bathroom, threw up, and got ready for school, trying not to lean heavily on his furniture.

Satoshi stopped at a combini and bought a meat bun.

Satoshi arrived at school and watched as Niwa skidded into the classroom, only to be ambushed by Saehara.

Satoshi knew damn well why his life was so fucked up, so he concentrated on the thin, high ringing in his head until it retreated.

Neither of them expected to have a particularly good day.

\--

Lately Niwa had been eating lunch with Satoshi. Satoshi wasn't sure why. It was just something Niwa had cooked up in his weird excuse for a brain, and there was probably no real reason for it. (Satoshi had a theory that what really controlled Niwa was a sort of minor chaos system, composed entirely of random numbers that occasionally produced things like 'I should make friends with Hiwatari-kun today!' or 'Hiwatari-kun is my /friend/, he won't let Krad kill me!' The horrible thing was that Niwa was usually right.)

Ever since the Ice Cream Incident, though, Niwa would pick up his lunch, look nervous and guilty at Satoshi and slink rapidly away.

Satoshi didn't mind very much. Niwa had an awful habit of popping up with comments like 'why are you only eating half your roll?' or else reading the nutritional information on Satoshi's wrappers and asking him what 'sorbitan monostearate' meant. Niwa, of course, had lunches that probably qualified as minor works of art, because Niwa Emiko was the scariest female Satoshi had ever heard of.

Satoshi watched Niwa slink away, and didn't sigh. He pulled out his juice box ('why is it called grape juice when there's no actual fruit content in it?') and meat bun and went to the roof.

_/You're sulking, Satoshi-sama./_

_Shut up._

_/I told you this would happen. He doesn't want to be your FRIEND if you feel that way./_

_I thought I told you to shut up._

_/Childishness, Satoshi-sama./_

Satoshi ignored him. He wasn't particularly hungry but even if Niwa wasn't really talking to him, he had another awful habit of turning and looking at him like a rabbit at a snake, and if Niwa saw him with his lunch uneaten he would probably give Satoshi a look that meant 'I'm running scared but I'm still your friend and why did you not eat lunch? Because if it's my fault I will spend the next week acting like a kicked puppy'. This was another reason why Satoshi hadn't wanted to be friends with Niwa. Niwa _cared_ about people. Satoshi didn't understand it. Niwa had every reason in the world to ignore the weird guy chasing him and get on with his life, and yet he chose to spend time with Satoshi.

_/Obviously, the Niwa is insane. And trying to take you away from me./_

_That would first require he actually want to take me away from you._

_/Well, naturally. He's doing it to spite me./_

_Niwa doesn't want to spite anybody._

_/It's charming how you think the best of him even when he's all but vomiting at the sight of you./_

Satoshi unwrapped his bun and took a bite.

\--

::I hope you realize you are the biggest, fattest, weeniest, big, fat weenie of all the big, fat weenies I have every seen.::

Daisuke, sitting on a slightly damp patch of concrete when he could have been up on the roof in what sun there was, ignored Dark.

::I mean, not that eating lunch with the Honorable Commander Hiwatari was one of your bright ideas in the first place, but --::

:I don't want to hear about it, Dark.:

::I'm just saying.::

:What you're saying is that I'm a big, fat weenie simply because I feel a little awkward around Hiwatari-kun right now.:

::No, what I'm SAYING is that he came on to you -- ooh, pretty girl! -- and _you_ are hiding from him. Like a big, fat weenie.::

Daisuke glanced at the girl. She was actually sort of pretty, although Dark held a theory called 'there are no ugly girls. Some are simply less attractive than others -- hi baby wanna see my etchings?' :That doesn't make me a weenie.:

::Yes it does.::

:No, it doesn't.:

::Does so.::

:Does not.:

::Does so.::

:Does no -- why am I arguing about this with you?:

::Because you feel guilty over being a big, fat weenie. As well you should, you big, fat weenie.::

Daisuke pulled his phone out of his bag and hit speed-dial for home. "Hi, Dad? Can I talk to Mom? Thanks."

::Ignoring me isn't going to help, you know.::

"MOTHER," shrieked Daisuke into his cell phone, "I HAVE A TEST TOMORROW. YOU KNEW I HAD A TEST TOMORROW. HOW COULD YOU -- DON'T HANG UP I'M NOT DONE --"

::Weenie, weenie, weenie.::

Daisuke glared at his phone. "She KNOWS I have a test tomorrow. I know she does."

::Which is more important, a stupid test or being the sexy legendary thief, Dark Mo -- FUCKER.::

"Eh?"

::SAGA AT THREE O'CLOCK.::

Daisuke looked around wildly. Saga-kun saw him look, and a wide, maniac grin spread across his face.

"Niwa-kun!" bellowed Saga-kun. "I just want a word about -- "

::RUN, DAISUKE! RUN LIKE THE SISSY LITTLE GIRL YOU ARE!::

Daisuke bolted.

The problem with being at school was that he couldn't use any of the tricks he knew, and remembering NOT to take a flying leap off a six foot wall and land running was harder than actually running away. Mostly because thanks to his insane mother, the secret techniques of the Niwa were engraved in his brain and his muscles and he had an awful tendency to use them when he was scared. Which was sort of the point, but wasn't much help when you were trying to escape from someone and _not_ reveal your secret to the world.

"Niwa!" bellowed Saga-kun. "Did you hear that Dark was going to steal --"

"NO I DIDN'T I DON'T KNOW I DON'T CARE GO /AWAY/," howled Daisuke.

"WAIT!"

Daisuke narrowly missed crashing into a group of girls. "Sorry!" he said, and skidded around the corner.

"NI -- OOF!"

"KYAA!"

"Watch where you're going!"

Daisuke looked around desperately. That pileup wouldn't hold Saga-kun for long -- in fact, he could hear him untangling himself already -- and he had to find somewhere to hide.

"NIWA! Wait, I just want to ask you --"

Daisuke ran faster. Blind instinct led him up the staircase up to the roof, and he was almost there, Saga hot on his heels, when he remembered.

:Oh no that's where Hiwatari-kun --:

Hiwatari-kun, with his usual impeccable timing, swung the door open.

CRAP, thought Daisuke. He tried to stop, anyway.

::OK, when I was saying you shouldn't be avoiding him? I did _not_ mean 'run into his waiting arms'.::

Daisuke tried to get his breath. :Shut UP, Dark.:

::At least you always end up on top.::

Daisuke tried to sit up, and discovered the only place to put his hands was, well, Hiwatari-kun. He turned red and tried to figure out how to untangle himself. Hiwatari-kun was muttering under his breath, something that sounded like numbers.

::Is that _powers of three_ he's reciting?::

:How should I know?:

::That kid needs help.::

"I'm really sorry, Hiwatari-kun," he said. "I didn't mean to, um, I mean, Saga-kun was chasing me, um, are you all right?"

"NIWA!" bellowed Saga-kun, bounding up the stairs.

"GEH," said Daisuke.

Hiwatari-kun blinked at him, straightened his glasses and looked at Saga-kun.

Daisuke looked behind him and saw that Saga-kun had a camera-phone. He squeaked.

::Dammit, every time I think you couldn't possibly be _less_ manly you manage to surprise me.::

"I wouldn't, if I were you," said Hiwatari-kun.

Saga-kun grinned like a shark. "This sort of thing is /very popular/."

Daisuke decided dignity had never been one of his strong points in the first place and anything was better than Saga-kun with blackmail photos. He scrambled off Hiwatari-kun.

"No," said Hiwatari-kun. "I don't think you understand. I really wouldn't if I were you."

Saga-kun hesitated. Hiwatari-kun looked at him, calm and polite, and really if Daisuke had been getting that look he would be gibbering apologies and backing away.

Saga-kun flipped his phone shut. "Hiwatari Satoshi, isn't it? You could make a lot of money with your face."

"I'm sorry to say I don't particularly want to," said Hiwatari-kun, still politely. "Why don't you leave Niwa alone for now, Saga?"

Saga-kun stared at Hiwatari-kun for a long moment. Then he shrugged and looked at Daisuke, smiling. "I'll see you tonight, Niwa."

There was an awkward silence.

"Um," said Daisuke.

"Care to explain why you're being chased by talent agents, Niwa?"

"Because my life sucks," said Daisuke.

"That isn't a reason."

"He thinks I'm Dark and I think he wants me to join his agency and I have no idea why."

Hiwatari-kun raised his eyebrow. "Why he thinks you're Dark, or why he wants you to join his agency?"

"Both," said Daisuke, miserably.

Hiwatari-kun opened his mouth, and was interrupted by the sounds of whining coming up from the stairwell. "Ow ow ow why do I have to -- OW."

Saga-kun reappeared, in the grasp of his secretary-slave-sidekick person.

"He has something he wants to tell you," said Saga-kun's secretary-thingy. Even from several feet away, Daisuke could see him tighten his grasp on Saga-kun's shoulder. "Doesn't he."

"I'm very sorry I chased you across campus and made you trip into Hiwatari and tried to take blackmail pictures," said Saga-kun. "OW."

"Please forgive the moron," said Saga-kun's thingy-person.

"Um," said Daisuke.

Saga-kun's secretary-thingy managed to bow and force Saga-kun to bow at the same time. "If you will excuse us." He dragged Saga-kun off by the scuff of his neck.

Neither Daisuke nor Hiwatari-kun spoke for several minutes, staring at the stairwell.

"Is your life always this surreal, Niwa?" said Hiwatari-kun finally. He sounded curious.

"Yes, unfortunately."

Hiwatari-kun sighed. "Do you need anything, Niwa? Now that you're no longer being chased by people trying to make a star out of you."

"I wish I knew what sort of star he was trying to make out of me," mumbled Daisuke. Considering that the first time he'd met Saga-kun, he'd gotten pointed at and ordered to strip. And then Saga-kun had tried to /help/. "Um. No? I'll, um. Get going now."

"You do that," said Hiwatari-kun. Daisuke wasn't always the most observant of people -- as Dark frequently pointed out -- but there was something in Hiwatari-kun's voice that made him stop and look at him.

"Are you feeling all right?" he asked.

"Yes, Niwa." Hiwatari-kun pushed up his glasses.

Daisuke studied him. Hiwatari-kun was always pale, but it was usually a healthier pale, which didn't exactly make sense when Daisuke thought it through. Usually the undertones were more ivory, but right now they were verging on blue. "Are you sure? Did you eat anything?"

"Yes, I am," said Hiwatari-kun, in a voice like a razor. "Yes, I did, and I don't see how it's any of your business, Niwa."

Daisuke opened his mouth and realized it wasn't his business. But still, he thought helplessly. "I can't help worrying about one of my friends."

Hiwatari-kun looked at him, really looked at him, with eyes gone nearly black. "Am I?"

"Are you what?" said Daisuke, confused. Sometimes he felt like he and Hiwatari-kun were having two entirely different conversations at the same time.

"One of your friends."

"Of course you are --" began Daisuke, and stopped.

Hiwatari-kun gave him a look that Daisuke recognized; tired and annoyed. "I'm not your friend, Niwa."

"Yes, you are," said Daisuke. "I mean, I like you." That was what happened when you were friends, right? You were friends because you liked each other.

"I," said Hiwatari-kun, very deliberately, "do not like you."

"Eh?" said Daisuke.

"You heard me, Niwa. I do not like you."

Daisuke stared at Hiwatari-kun. He didn't know what to think. Hiwatari-kun couldn't be serious -- or he could be. He didn't think that Hiwatari-kun hated him, but Hiwatari-kun's eyes had darkened to a night sky blue, cold and endless. "Um," he said.

"I've _never_ liked you," said Hiwatari-kun. "From the first."

Daisuke flushed miserably. "Why didn't you say so sooner, then?" he said. "I'm sorry to have bothered you." He turned and ran blindly down the stairs.

\--

Satoshi heard the bell ring for the end of lunch, but he wasn't really interested in going to class.

_/How very noble of you, Satoshi-sama./_

Satoshi didn't answer. He kept his head buried in his arms.

 _/I'll still kill him, you know. I don't care if you hate him or love him,/_ said Krad. His voice was oddly gentle. _/I'll kill him. Then he won't hurt you anymore. I promise./_


	7. as the rush comes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly think the most terrible thing about this entire exercise is that I STILL LIKE THE SAME MUSIC AS I DID EIGHT YEARS AGO, WHAT THE FUCK, SELF.

Daisuke pulled open the door. "I'm back," he said. He took a listless step in, and said something he learned from Dark. He back flipped to the edge of the door and looked down at the pit, filled with very sharp spikes, where the floor usually was. "Mom, today is not a good day."

::Like that's ever stopped her before.::

"Just for once," said Daisuke, "I would like to come home and not have my own mother try to kill me." He eyed the distance from the door to the hallway. "It's longer than usual."

::Hey, it's not a challenge otherwise.::

"Would YOU like to go through it then?"

::Bring it on.::

"That'd be cheating, though," said Daisuke reluctantly.

::It would be an efficient use of resources.::

"Mom would get mad."

::And I could totally butter her up.::

Daisuke considered that. "Eh, she'd make me do it over anyway," he said, and crouched.

::Point. On three?::

"One -"

::Two - ::

"THREE!" Daisuke jumped. He barely made it over the pit, scrabbled for a second, and landed safely. He looked ahead. "Aw, man..." Laser lines criss-crossed over the hall, and if his eyes were right, there were arrow ports on the walls. "What sort of person tries to kill her own son when he comes home?"

::Emiko loves you and she wants you to survive?::

Daisuke sighed. He bolted into the hall, flipping over the laser lines and hoping the arrows weren't -- crap, he thought, as an arrow embedded itself in the wall an inch from his ear.

::Incoming!::

Daisuke spared a glance behind him to see a pack of robots with very, very sharp spears roll out behind him. "Where does she _find_ these things?"

He leaped and went into a flying somersault to the end of the hall. He reached the door, and stopped. He pulled out a rubber pot holder from his bag (nobody saw the inside of his bag at school because Daisuke didn't want to explain why he had innocent bundles of rods and hooks that added up to a set of lockpicks, let alone the rubber pot holder to keep himself from being electricuted or the pocket computer that put Hiwatari-kun's to shame. The computer was his father's idea; his mother thought it was cheating) and tried opening the door.

Live current, of course.

He gritted his teeth, wrenched the door open and had just enough time to slam it shut as the robots reached him.

"Hello, dear," caroled his mother. "Did you have a good day at school?"

"No," said Daisuke, allowing himself to be violently hugged. "It was awful."

"Eh?" said his mother, pushing her face around to study his. "What happened?"

Daisuke wiggled out of her arms and picked up his slightly charred bag. "Stuff," he said. "I don't want to talk about it. What time is the job tonight?"

His mother put her head to the side and studied him. Daisuke hunched his shoulders.

"Emiko-san," said his father from the hallway. His voice was gentle but his meaning was clear.

His mother looked at his father, and sniffed. "Nine pm."

"I'm going to go study," said Daisuke. "Call me when it's time."

"What about dinner?"

"I'm not hungry." Daisuke went up the stairs and into his room. He didn't slam his door, even though he felt like it.

Dark didn't say anything, and Daisuke was glad of it; he wasn't in the mood. He set his bag down and With hopped up on the desk. "Kyuu?"

"Sorry, With," said Daisuke, trying to smile. "It hasn't been a good day."

With put his head to the side and then jumped on Daisuke's shoulder, pushing his nose against Daisuke's cheek. He made a half-chittering, half purring sound that vibrated on Daisuke's jawbone, a sound that he only made when Daisuke was upset. Daisuke thought it was supposed to be comforting, but he'd never bothered to ask his mother or grandfather about it.

::They do it at their kittens,:: said Dark, suddenly. ::To calm them.::

:....so With thinks I'm a ....:

::You are a couple hundred years younger than he is, you know. And he likes you.::

Daisuke smiled, with an effort. "Thank you, With." He reached up and scratched With behind the ear. With pushed his nose -- very cold and wet -- against Daisuke's face again and hopped down.

Daisuke slid down to the floor, leaning against the bed. Hiwatari-kun hated him, he had a test he was going to fail the next day, and he had to go steal something. Hiwatari-kun hated him. It wasn't that he could _blame_ Hiwatari-kun, after all; he was a Niwa, he stole things from Hiwatari-kun's family. It just wasn't fair, he thought. They could have been friends.

Of course Hiwatari-kun had done /that/, too. Daisuke lifted his hand and looked at it. It had probably been to freak Daisuke out or something. He remembered exactly how it had felt, which was sort of gross. Not gross, though; strange. Strange was definitely the word. Kind of like With poking his nose on his cheek. Hiwatari-kun's mouth hadn't been cold, but surprisingly warm.

He didn't understand, and he wanted to understand. But he couldn't understand if Hiwatari-kun didn't let him. It hurt, he thought. He didn't know why and it hurt him. His head was pounding. He was dizzy and he wanted to stay in his room and he wanted to understand why Hiwatari-kun hated him and he wanted to help Hiwatari-kun, if he could, if he at all could. He wanted it so badly it was choking him, like his clothes were too tight.

::Uh.....your clothes _are_ too tight.::

:What are you talking about?: said Daisuke, miserably.

::Mirror. NOW.::

Daisuke got up reluctantly. His hair brushed against his arms -- wait. Daisuke looked down. Purple strands of hair fell against his face. His shirt rode above his wrist bones, and it was no wonder he _had_ felt choked, because his collar was tight against his neck and his shoulders were broader than the shirt was.

He whirled around to face the mirror, and looked back at Dark's face.

::Well, this is awkward,:: said Dark.

:Why did I transform? I wasn't thinking of anything. Except Hiwata--: He stopped.

::Yeah.::

:Dark?:

::Yeah, Daisuke?::

:Can I not think about this for a while? Please?:

::It's up to you.::

:I'm not in love with him or anything, am I?:

::I thought you just said you didn't want to think about this?::

:I can't help it,: said Daisuke miserably. :I mean...:

::I know what you mean,:: said Dark, sounding resigned. ::Look, think of it like this. You change because of strong emotion.::

:That still doesn't help,: said Daisuke, unbuttoning his shirt. At least now he didn't lose buttons when he transformed. Thank God for growth spurts. Before he'd hit his growth spurt the difference between the two bodies was almost ridiculous, but now Daisuke was only about two sizes smaller than Dark. Before that he'd looked like a five year old playing in Daddy's dress clothes.

::So think of it as a strong emotion and worry about it AFTER we get done with the damn heist,:: said Dark, exasperated.

Daisuke finished unbuttoning his shirt. "Yeah," he said.

\--

"Emiko! You about ready?"

Kosuke looked up at Dark clattering down the stairs. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," said Dark. It was really hard to fool Kosuke; he didn't trust Dark any further than he could throw him. Liked Dark, probably. Trusted him, no. It was sort of refreshing to have someone give him that particular look, like 'I expect you have enough sense of self-preservation to not actually kill my son but if you hurt him I will seal you myself'. It reminded Dark that he was really crazy after all. He and Krad, crazy like a pair of loons, living off families that were even crazier, if possible. Kosuke was the only sane one of the lot, poor bastard. Well, Daisuke was almost sane.

Now Emiko, on the other hand, coming out of the living room with a smile on her face and something leather and complicated in her hands, was crazy. But he loved her anyway. He loved all of them anyway.

Kind of stupid, when he thought about it.

"What's that?" asked Dark.

"A special outfit," said Emiko, with a maniac gleam in her eye.

Dark controlled a wince and took the pile of ... leather straps, apparently. "Thanks. Lemme get changed and then I'll be back."

It took him a few minutes to figure out what went where; there was, somewhat to Dark's relief, actual pants. But the pants were very ... leather ... he thought, staring at the straps on them. Emiko had a theory that if one was going to go steal something, one should go steal it with style. Dark totally agreed, in theory, but he wondered about Emiko sometimes, he really did. Like when he was attempting to pull a fishnet shirt over his head without snagging it on the belts on the pants, or on the vest he was apparently supposed to wear over it.

Dark glanced at the mirror, and had to admit he looked goddamn hot. Emiko had taste.

He went downstairs to the living room. With jumped on his shoulder along the way. "Don't shed on me," said Dark. With dug in a little tighter with his claws. "All right, Emiko," he said, coming through the door. "Let's get this show on the road."

\--

He stepped outside the house, looked up to the sky. It used to be you could see every star in the sky from here, but the city had grown and the electric lights had come. The stars were still there, though. If he listened he could hear them singing.

He stretched out, With shifting on his shoulder, on top of the backpack Dark wore. "Ready?" he said.

With shifted and chirrped at him. "Yeah," he said. "It's a beautiful night."

Wings spread, lifted, and he flew into the night.

The target was a figurine, rose quartz. Made within the last century - not Hiwatari's mother, or her mother, but Hiwatari's great-grandfather. He'd liked the bastard, as much as he liked any Hikari. Quieter than most of them -- and that took something -- sort of thoughtful. When he wasn't having a migraine called Krad he liked to sit in his workshop and carve. Horses, mostly, or cats, or dogs. Never humans.

He landed lightly on a roof a few buildings away from the building, and pulled out a pair of goggles. Pretty standard, he thought. Saehara Sr freaking out, Saehara Jr hanging in a tree by an old climbing harness and hope.

:He's going to kill himself,: said Daisuke, the first time he'd spoken since he transformed.

::Not a hell of a lot we can do about it,:: said Dark practically. "Come on, Hiwatari, where the hell are you -- ah, there you are." Hiwatari turned and looked at the building Dark was on, as if he saw him. It wouldn't have surprised Dark at all. He resisted the temptation to wave or stick his tongue out, and continued looking through the scene. "Oh, hello," he said. "It's that idiot Saga."

Daisuke groaned.

"Doesn't look too bad," he said. "Arguing with the police -- bet you he's trying to get in with some sort of line about the public's right to know."

Good audience, he decided. The usual screaming girls, the media parked front and center, the city watching on TV.

"Time to go," he said, putting the goggles away. "Let's give them a goddamn show."

\--

An entrance, decided Satoshi, for the reporters and fans and curiosity-seekers. And for Saga, because Dark didn't much like Saga. Right about --

Someone shrieked, and the crowd looked up and roared at the sight of black wings blotting out the moon.

\-- now, thought Satoshi.

Dark's wings spread against the night, highlighted by the lights. It was a good effect, thought Satoshi. He watched as Dark soared up, wings blacker than the sky, and folded his wings, dropping down like ... well, the effect was probably supposed to be 'hawk' but Satoshi's first thought was 'vulture'.

(Quite.)

Satoshi turned away. It was time for the hunt to begin.

\---

Always the sheer thrill, even with the stupid policemen who couldn't think their way out of a paperbag, even with the stupid traps that never worked. Always the feeling of power and excitement, your heart racing like a wild thing. Close your wings and land, smile for the camera and throw a wink for the girls. Run through the empty halls of the museum, watching for traps even as you think through the next hall, and the next. Jump over the silly policemen, so earnest, so below your level.

Used to be you'd get to a job and there'd be retainers, samurai with katana and bows, works of art used to kill. Now there's just electronics and guns and nets. Boring, you think, boring, simple. Leave them cursing and panting behind you.

Where's the Hikari? Where is he? Daisuke in the back of your head worrying about his friend. No Hikari was ever a friend of a Niwa, but this one comes close. Give him a show, because he gives you a fight. Useless alarms, useless things shrilling and closing behind you, don't pay attention because there's the target and that's all you can focus on.

Yes, you think.

Hikari aura. Hikari behind you, staring at you with his dead blue eyes, so calm, so cold. Hikari pacing up to you, a part to play, the way things must be done. Grin at him, and you know your smile is too feral to be human but you don't care, because humanity is riding inside you, the color of amber and citrine, the prettiest thing you've ever stolen. Hikari feints, grabs, and you duck and avoid him.

Get to the case, smash it open, grab what you came for.

A little thing, a pretty thing, rose quartz and inlaid jade. A horse for luck, to carry the bad dreams away.

Spread your wings, crash through the window. Got to give them an escape scene. Hikari behind you, hate in his eyes. You won, he lost. Yes.

Yes.

\---

:I don't like it,: said Daisuke, fretful. Dark was practically skipping down the deserted museum halls, still lost in the adrenalin high. He'd had barely enough sense to get back in the museum, heading toward the basement and the underground paths of the city.

"Don't like what?"

:Hiwatari-kun doesn't give up that easily,: said Daisuke.

"Maybe he feels awkward around you," suggested Dark nastily.

:Maybe,: said Daisuke. His tone wasn't convinced at all.

"What's your problem?" said Dark, exasperated. "We got away. With's got the target to Towa already. He wasn't captured on the way there or back. We're fine, Daisuke."

:Something just feels wrong,: said Daisuke unhappily. :I wish we were home.:

"Daisuke," said Dark, "I will tell you when it's time for you to flip out. And now --" He stopped.

Krad stood in front of the door to the basement, looking cool and distant and bloodthirsty.

:You were saying?: Daisuke had learned sarcasm. Dark didn't know whether he was proud or aggravated.

::-- would be a really good time to flip out, yeah.::

:'Kay. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA---:

"Well, heeelloooo, sunshine," drawled Dark. He was never going to admit it, but it was actually sort of comforting to have Daisuke freaking out in the back of his head. He preferred having his hosts flipping out, actually. When they stopped flipping out it was because they'd either resigned themselves to their fate (and Dark needed them fighting, he needed them alive and kicking and with their full willpower) or because they were about to fade away.

:--- AAARRRGH DON'T YOU DARE SAY 'well, _hellloooo_ sunshine' WE ARE ABOUT TO DIE."

"It's always a pleasure, Dark," said Krad, smiling faintly.

:............:

::I have to agree with you there.::

:Is it just me or does he get creepier every time we see him?:

::No, he totally gets creepier every time we see him,:: said Dark. He smiled, slow and lazy, at Krad. Krad hated it. Dark did it every time he saw him. "Did you need something?"

"Maybe I wanted to see you."

"Maybe you're full of shit," said Dark.

"As unpleasant as always," said Krad. "As long as you grace me with your presence, however..."

:We're totally about to die.:

"Yes?" drawled Dark. He shifted his eyes to the window, measuring the distance as casually as possible. He might just barely make it.

"Your Tamer," said Krad, his smile shifting from cool and polite to cold and dangerous.

"What about Daisuke?" Dark put his hands on his hips, within distance of the blade he'd brought to get into the case. If Krad was after Daisuke he'd need all the weapons he could get or find or fucking _make_ , if he had to. "I didn't know your interests ran that way."

Krad's eyes narrowed and he smiled again, like ice snapping under your feet. "Oh, I am always very interested in the Niwa," he said.

Dark shifted. "In killing them, you mean."

"Well, of course," said Krad calmly. "Vermin should be taken care of."

"Too bad he's not vermin, then," said Dark, bracing himself.

"Really," said Krad. "He just looks like a cockroach to me." His eyes glowed. "I'll crush him and you under my foot. I'll take him away. I'll take him away and he'll pay. He'll pay for this."

"Like _hell_ ," snarled Dark, and sprang. Krad followed and they crashed through the window, Dark a split second ahead of him. "WITH!" he bellowed.

Krad had his wings out already, and his face was entirely too close for comfort. "Hello, little mouse."

Dark slashed at him with the blade and Krad hissed. That was really going to suck for Hiwatari tomorrow, thought Dark, and then With was there and his wings settled on Dark's shoulders. Dark shot straight up in the air, Krad much too close for comfort. Dark dropped down again, cursing.

"I'll kill you," crooned Krad, close behind him. "I'll kill him. You hurt him, you hurt him. You'll pay."

:Dark, what's he --:

::Never mind that now!:: snapped Dark. Krad was smiling, gently, happily, as his hands reached for Dark's throat. Dark kicked, made contact, and Krad screamed in rage. It only distracted him for a second, but that was long enough. Dark put all of his power into getting away.

"I'll kill you. I'll kill you," said Krad. Dark saw Krad's hands were moving, cupping over each other to frame an imaginary ball. Shit. ::Brace yourself,:: he said. He had one second to dive and roll in midair when the edge of Krad's magic hit his shoulder. Pain blossomed outward, dizzying him, and Krad was there again, with power coiling around his hands.

:Dark!: screamed Daisuke. :Are you all right?:

::Sorry, Daisuke,:: said Dark. ::Hang on for a second, OK?:: He pushed his wings, fighting gravity, and shot up above Krad.

:What? What's going on?: Daisuke's voice was panicked, but still trusting. He trusted Dark, to make it all right. Oh God, thought Dark, he trusts me.

Dark concentrated, pulling shards of darkness from the night into his hands. It swirled around him, becoming visible, tangible. He was using up his reserves and most of Daisuke's. He had to make this shot count. Krad was getting ready to attack him again, slower than before. Hiwatari must be at his limits. Fucker, he thought, why do you have to use so much? Why do you have to use their lives like that?

Such little lives.

Krad raised his hand to throw the magic.

Dark struck.

Krad screamed, high and angry, as the darkness wrapped around him and knocked him from the air. He fell, white feathers and gold hair weaving together, hateful eyes staring at Dark, even as he transformed.

:HIWATARI-KUN!:

\---

Satoshi fell for a sickening eternity and then a hand clamped around his wrist and pulled him up. Dark's face was white. Too much effort, Satoshi thought. He's going to lose control and then I'm going to die. How stupid is that.

Dark swerved, made it to the top of the building, but his grip loosened on Satoshi for one second before he could grab it again, and Satoshi crashed against the side of the building. He was breathing hard. His hair, falling over Satoshi's hand, was damp with sweat.

"Sorry, Daisuke," said Dark, and transformed.

Niwa's pale face looked down at Satoshi. "Hiwatari-kun! Hang on, I'll get you up!"

Satoshi thought about letting go. He really, seriously thought about letting go. "Why?" he said.

Niwa braced himself and tried pulling. "Why _what_?"

"Why are you pulling me up?"

"Because you're my friend," said Niwa, gasping. His face was going red with effort and he looked earnest and innocent. Satoshi thought his heart was going to break.

Satoshi was dangling off the side of a building, the only thing between him and splattery death was a boy twenty pounds lighter than he was, and he found himself opening his mouth to say, "I'm not your _friend_ , Niwa."

"Yes. You. ARE," gasped Niwa, gave a grunt of effort and pulled him up. Niwa fell over from the effort and they both rolled a couple of times, Satoshi landing on his back with Niwa half-on his chest, panting hard. "I'll _make_ you my friend, Hiwatari-kun."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 12:08 AM 7/7/2005: in conclusion, I would just like to say I HATE WRITING ACTION SCENES.
> 
> 2208 9/7/2012: I still do.


	8. interlude 2: vicious streak

In the cold pure light of his dwelling idols made of ice stare blankly ahead, seeing nothing, feeling nothing. They are the Hikari he has possessed.

He doesn't understand and it makes him angry, that they should love the others, the interlopers, the ones that took his other self away from him. They should love him because he gave them a gift. They should be happy with him. They should, they should. They should be grateful.

He fills this place with light, with purity, with everything his other self is not. He tries to forget but every time he appears, every time he is there with the ones who took him away he rages more and more. Why did he leave him why does he stay why does he not destroy their captors. Come back to me stay away I'll kill you. I'll kill you, I'll kill you and him and you'll be with me. We'll be together forever, don't be scared.

He wants blood running down his hands, warming them. He wants to see his other self made cold like him. He wants this Hikari to stop, to not pay attention to the other, the hateful creature who took him away. The hateful creature who hurts this Hikari, who is so beautiful. A painting in watercolor, a carving in crystal. Beautiful, fragile. He'll take care of him. He will. Once he kills that hateful creature, his beautiful thing will never be hurt again. He'll wrap him in ice, like he did the others. He'll kill him gently and then he'll be free.

He paces his prison, smashes the idols surrounding him. Stops and rebuilds them, crooning softly. He loves them, he hates them. They trapped him, they give him life. They are his. Forever his own darlings, to break and rebuild and keep close.

Forever, forever, he promises them. Just let me go. Let me go and you will be eternal. Let me kill him, let me never see him again. Love and hate, so close together. Like his beautiful thing, who looks at the hateful creature who doesn't know what he does to him. Wants to hate wants to love, wants to do more and more but he won't let him because he is beautiful and his and his alone.

 

\----


	9. which to bury, us or the hatchet?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dammit, I KNEW I'd used that song somewhere!

Afterward the only thing Daisuke remembered clearly was lying across Hiwatari-kun. His torso was twisted uncomfortably. Hiwatari-kun was so still that Daisuke thought he must be unconscious.

He thought, This is stupid. We have got to end this.

They lay there for a while, Daisuke trying to breathe without gasping, and Hiwatari-kun still motionless, until at last the thought of moving bothered Daisuke less than the thought of being found or With anxiously chirring and poking his cold, wet nose against his cheek. He tried to push himself up and black spots danced in front of his yes. His ears rang, a sharp painful shrill. He took another deep breath and managed to pull himself upright.

"Are you all right, Hiwatari-kun?" he asked. Hiwatari-kun was so pale his face had blue tints in it. His eyes were open and he was staring into space. His eyes were dull blue. Daisuke didn't like it.

"I'm alive," said Hiwatari-kun.

"Maybe I should --" began Daisuke.

"Leave," said Hiwatari-kun. Daisuke opened his mouth to protest and Hiwatari-kun turned his head and looked at him. "Just go, Niwa. Please."

Daisuke hesitated for a second, and then got up. Everything hurt. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said.

Hiwatari-kun mumbled something that sounded like 'not if I see you first' but Daisuke was too tired and sore to take it up with him. He moved toward the door, limping.

With couldn't transform into wings without Dark -- and Dark was so exhausted that Daisuke could barely sense him, a little flickering presence that felt like it was snoring. So Daisuke took the underground route, the half forgotten sewers under the town. There were lights here and there but mostly Daisuke simply followed the direction that With nudged him in. If With hadn't been there, he would have been lost; he was too tired to even realize where he was going.

Finally he saw the door, with Niwa scratched into the metal. He pushed it open and trudged up the stairs. He was half-afraid that he might fall on the stairs and just go to sleep. He hoped Hiwatari-kun was all right. He stopped for a moment, thinking vaguely he should go back and see if Hiwatari-kun was all right. With nipped his ear sharply, enough to wake him and make him realize what he was thinking. Even if he could get back to the museum safely, he was too worn to help Hiwatari-kun.

He pushed open the door on the top of the stairs. His head throbbed, a dull, queasy ache. He stumbled, and someone caught him.

"You look pretty bad," said his father, setting him upright.

"Fight," said Daisuke, swaying. "Krad." His father put his hand under Daisuke's shoulder, steadying him. "Tired."

"Yes," said his father. His voice was quiet and calm. Daisuke was glad, because everything made his head hurt worse. "Can you walk the rest of the way?"

"Prolly," said Daisuke, his voice slurred. "Can't sleep in. Test tomorrow."

His father pushed him gently onto a chair and knelt to take off his boots.

"Hiwatari-kun," said Daisuke, half-asleep. "Prolly feels worse'n me. Got to do something."

"Yes," said Kosuke gently. Daisuke was barely conscious. It must have been a bad fight. He helped Daisuke to his feet and steered him toward his room. Emiko-san poked her head out of the living room, saw Daisuke, and opened her mouth.

"Tomorrow," said Kosuke, firmly.

Emiko-san scowled and looked worried but she didn't follow them. Kosuke heard her pass behind them and go into the kitchen as he pushed Daisuke up the stairs. Somehow he got him to his room, and hovered while Daisuke tried to get the buckles of his outfit undone. Finally he had to undress and put Daisuke's pajamas on him, like his son was a little boy. He looked at the bruises already blooming on Daisuke's chest and back and tried not to worry.

"Thanks," said Daisuke, falling ungracefully onto the bed.

Emiko-san came in with a tray. "I've got you some milk, Daisuke," she said.

Daisuke sat up slowly, like it was almost more trouble than it was worth. "OK," he said, and took the cup. He drank it slowly and lay down again. With hopped on the bed and curled up beside his head on the pillow, nudging his cheek and chirring at him.

With wasn't the only one who was worried, thought Kosuke, and led Emiko-san quietly out of the room.

"What happened?" whispered Emiko-san.

"A fight with Krad," he said. "Daisuke got pretty beat up."

Emiko-san hissed. "I hope that Hikari boy feels worse," she said, her eyes snapping.

Kosuke sighed. He understood that Emiko-san hated Hiwatari-kun -- couldn't help but hate him -- but he couldn't feel anything but pity for him. "He's a boy," he said. "Just like Daisuke."

Emiko-san ruffled up and Kosuke put his hand gently on her arm. "It's late. Shouldn't we get to bed?"

"He's a Hikari," said Emiko-san.

"He's a _child_ ," snapped Kosuke. "And Daisuke is worried about him. Even if he is a Hikari, he's probably hurt worse than Daisuke. He doesn't have anybody to make sure he gets to bed or give him hot milk."

Emiko-san stared at him and Kosuke rubbed his head nervously. "I can't help worrying about him too," he said. "They're just boys."

"Hmph," said Emiko-san, and stalked toward the kitchen.

Kosuke sighed. This had to end.

\----

(There is nothing but white in the space around him, the white of blank paper, of canvas and empty air.

He tries to paint, he tries to draw, tries to do something, anything, that will let him out, that will make the paper and canvas surrounding him - choking him - let him go. If he fills the blank space he will be free. But he has no ink for his pen, no paints for his brushes, and he does nothing but make empty scratches on the canvas and paper around him. If he just. One stroke or line will free him but he can't. There is nothing to paint with, nothing to draw with. His pencils are nothing but wood, there is no lead. The pastels in his box are hard marble, they won't leave any impressions.

Finally he reaches for his razor, the one he uses for his pencils, lays it against his hand and)

The doorbell was ringing. It was a hesitant sound, like someone was trying to ring it quietly. He rolled over and saw that it was seven am, and he still felt like complete and utter shit. The only good thing was that Krad apparently felt worse than he did, and wasn't doing anything but lurking quietly in the back of his head.

He could ignore it; if it was his father he'd just use his key. But then again his father wouldn't bother to knock or ring. Satoshi swung his legs over, closed his eyes and gritted his teeth against the nausea. He got up, slowly and walked to the door.

His first thought was that Niwa's mother must have been glad she was there when she gave birth to him, because the man who was standing nervously in the doorway was an older version of Niwa, except for the color of his hair. He was clutching a plastic grocery bag nervously.

"May I help you, Niwa-san?"

"Ah," said Niwa-san, shifting nervously. "You, um. Recognize me?"

"The resemblance is striking," said Satoshi.

"Really? I always think he looks like his mother."

"Is there something you need?" asked Satoshi.

"Well, no," said Niwa-san, looking worried. "Um. Yes. Sort of. How are you feeling?"

"I beg your pardon?" said Satoshi.

"I, um," said Niwa's father. "Daisuke was kind of um. Worried. After last night."

"I'm fine," said Satoshi, wondering why Niwa should have put his father up to visiting him.

"You don't look like it," said Niwa's father, bluntly. His voice was light and hesitant but weirdly soothing. A librarian's voice, a scholar's voice. Satoshi knew that Niwa's father had spent ten years researching both families. He couldn't be gentle and softspoken all the time, he thought. He'd seen some of the places where records were kept -- being meek as milk would end up with you splattered across stone floors.

"I'm a little tired," said Satoshi politely. He'd barely managed to drag himself to his apartment and was leaning casually against the side of the door hoping he didn't quite look like he was clinging for dear life, but he was damned if he would look weak in front of Niwa Kosuke.

Niwa's father gave him a look like the ones Niwa gave him over the ingredient list in his meat buns. Satoshi blinked. "Have you had breakfast yet?" said Niwa's father.

"No," said Satoshi, surprised. "I don't eat breakfast."

"Huh," said Niwa's father. "May I come in?"

Satoshi began to feel like there was two conversations going on at once. It was unnerving. "I beg your pardon?"

Niwa's father smiled at him, soft and gentle and Satoshi was not going to hate Niwa for an accident of paternity. "You need to eat," he said. "I brought some food."

"I - " began Satoshi. "Niwa-san, you really don't --"

"Call me Kosuke," said Niwa's father placidly. "Daisuke always eats everything in sight the morning after a fight." He thought for a moment. "And then he throws most of it up afterward but he usually manages to keep some of it down." He pushed Satoshi gently into the room, one hand under Satoshi's elbow, just light enough to make it so Satoshi didn't have to jerk away to keep his dignity. "Come on."

\----

Niwa's father fed him toast and eggs and protein drinks and waited patiently while Satoshi threw it back up, and then gave him ginger tea, and tried again with the breakfast, and that time Satoshi kept it down.

\----

Satoshi walked into the classroom and saw Niwa, slumped over his desk and looking as crappy as Satoshi felt, except he was trying to avoid listening to Saehara, too. Satoshi didn't bother speaking to him, even when Niwa looked up at him hopefully. He sat down at his desk and stared at Niwa until class started, and then wrote a note, screwed it up in a ball and threw it on Niwa's desk. Niwa started.

_your father came to my house this morning_

Niwa read it, wrote something and passed it back.

_for what?_

_to 'see how I was'. did you put him up to it?_

_no because I was asleep until fifteen minutes before I was late for school. why? what did he do?_ There's a little drawing of Niwa with x-marks for eyes, and his rabbit on his head.

_fed me. gave me lunch._

_well, yeah, he does that._

_your father is crazy._

_he is not! he just worries about people all the time._ A little Niwa face going  >:E. _do you want to eat lunch?_

_in general? no_

_I mean with me_

_why?_

_it's a nice sunny day outside and some people like to eat lunch with their friends?_

_I think I've mentioned that thinking I'm your friend will kill you one of these days._

_no it won't!_ Another little face going XO.

_your funeral._

_lunch?_

_I guess_

\---

Niwa, who apparently believed they were best friends again, all but dragged Satoshi out when the bell rang for lunch. Satoshi thought they were going to the roof as usual but Niwa veered off into the courtyard. Satoshi was still too tired to argue with him.

"It's nice and sunny here," said Niwa, as if that explained everything.

It was also nice and sunny on the roof, and people wouldn't bother him on the roof, but Satoshi didn't bother pointing that out.

Niwa spread his lunch out, and pulled out his sketchbook. Satoshi wondered where his mother found those horrible rabbit print fabrics she wrapped his lunches in.

"If you had an assignment to finish you could have told me," said Satoshi.

"Hmm?" said Daisuke, a riceball in his mouth. He sharpened his pencil. "Mu a profech," he said, and swallowed the rest of the riceball. "Not a project," he said again. "You should eat."

Satoshi rolled his eyes but opened the plain brown sack Niwa's father had shoved awkwardly into his hands. A vitamin drink, the type that was vaguely gritty because of the herbs or the protein powder and left little bits of sandy debris in the back of your throat to drive you crazy, two riceballs, clumsily but carefully wrapped, an apple, a bottle of orange juice. And a candy bar.

"I know I said this," said Satoshi, staring at his bounty, "but I think you should know your father is sort of crazy, Niwa."

"Not compared to Mom, he's not," said Niwa, who was poking cautiously at a bun shaped like a rabbit, with red candies for eyes. "Oh urgh, they're cinnamon."

"You don't like cinnamon?"

"I like cinnamon," said Niwa. "That's not the problem."

Satoshi raised his eyebrow.

Niwa pulled one of the candies off and held the bun up to Satoshi. The place where the candy had been was red and sort of oozy-looking.

"That's disgusting," said Satoshi.

"Uh-huh," said Niwa. "And she makes them by hand and always asks how I like them so I can't say 'Mom, it looks like With had his eye put out with a stick, please stop using cinnamon candies -- and why do you make them look like With anyway? I feel like a cannibal'." He made a face. "You want one?"

"No," said Satoshi.

They finished eating in more or less companionable silence. Niwa even made a heroic gesture and ate the rabbit bun. Then they sat and Niwa drew and Satoshi almost fell asleep.

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

Satoshi looked over at Niwa. "What do you mean?" He was never quite sure of Niwa's sudden questions, like random bombshells exploding in his face.

"What do you want to do when you're an adult?"

"Never thought about it," said Satoshi, truthfully. He woke up every morning vaguely surprised he was still alive and in his own form, not a fading consciousness trapped in Krad's mind. He researched suicide like some people studied college brochures. His adult life was not something he worried about.

Niwa's head popped up from behind his sketchpad, like a gopher in a nature film Satoshi had seen once. "Never?"

"Never," said Satoshi. "Why?"

"I was just wondering," said Niwa, retreating again. "Are you going to stay on the police force? Or do something else?"

"NO," said Satoshi, with more force than he intended. Niwa's head popped up again, a gopher sounding an alarm. A hawk is coming! Run away! "I -- police work isn't very interesting. What are you going to do?"

"Paint," said Niwa instantly. "What's your degree in? Don't you want to use that?"

"Mathematics and criminal science," said Satoshi. "And no."

"Well, what _would_ you like to do?" persisted Niwa. "There's got to be something you like doing."

He liked being with Niwa, and, to a lesser extent, sniping at Dark, but that was probably genetic. Or something to do with the fact that Dark was the only being in existence, bar some of the Niwa clan, who could give a Hikari as good as he got from them. He thought for a minute more. "Maybe I'll be a curator," he said, finally. He did like taking care of art. He didn't like creating art, but he liked taking care of it.

"Mom's got degrees in art history and preservation," said Niwa, cheerfully.

"That's a comfort," muttered Satoshi.

"Did you say something?"

"No," said Satoshi. "What are you drawing?"

The top of Niwa's head somehow managed to look guilty. "Nothing."

Satoshi's eyebrow shot up. He was too polite and too much of an artist (in spite of himself) to pursue the point, but he was also a Hikari, and there was some sort of gene labeled "needle Niwa" in his DNA. "So you've been drawing nothing for the past half-hour?"

"No," said Niwa, even more guiltily. "It's just some scribbles."

Satoshi let it pass. "What do your parents think? Of you painting?"

"Mom thinks I'll grow out of it," said Niwa. "Dunno what Dad thinks. Dark thinks it's kind of weird." He stopped for a second, and stared into middle space. "It's weird, you know? By the time I'm a grown-up Dark'll be gone again and I won't see him until I have kids."

Satoshi didn't say anything.

\----

Niwa walked with him for a while after school, chattering away about the rabbit and Towa-chan and his project for the art club. Satoshi thought there must be something amazing in the vitamin drink Niwa's father had given to him, because he felt almost normal. And Krad was still too tired to do anything, so taken all around, he thought the day was going to end pretty well.

Niwa touched his arm lightly and went down his street. His hair glowed in the setting sun, vivid. He waved again before he turned the corner, and Satoshi lifted his hand and watched him out of sight.

He turned around.

"Hello, Satoshi," said his father.


	10. between the bars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the Read array is based on the magic circles in Card Captor Sakura. I didn't realize that they were until I was halfway through and then I went OH HELL WHY NOT. I explain most of it in the fic itself but if you're confused ... um. Pretend it makes sense? I think my logic's pretty sound but if you do catch a mistake in it fell free to tag me on it. Also, there is a copy in the myDec site itself -- fenya . net / fanfics / dnangel / mydec / gfx / readarray.gif [which you might be able to find on the Wayback Machine? I totally forget which one I used for it though, probably the original Clow Read circle -- no, wait, it was the system I made up to make sense of the bullshit magical shit in Card Captor!].

Satoshi thought, I knew things were going too well to last. The warmth he had felt around Niwa drained from him, leaving him colder than ever.

His stepfather smiled at him kindly. "Who was that, Satoshi? A friend?"

Satoshi didn't answer. In the back of his mind, Krad stirred, old and vicious. Satoshi could only hope that his father would let him go soon; Krad might be weakened from the night before, but so was Satoshi, and if Krad chose to make things unpleasant Satoshi might not be able to stop him.

"Funny," said his father. "It looked like the Niwa boy."

"Did you need something, sir?" said Satoshi. Niwa was not going to be dragged into this. He was not going to let his father provoke him. He was not going to admit that Niwa was a weakness.

"I missed you," said his father coaxingly. "I just wanted to see my son."

As this was slightly more likely than the grass turning pink, Satoshi didn't answer. He waited. Krad was definitely awake now, but he wasn't doing anything - yet. Satoshi had the feeling that he was only waiting to see what Satoshi's father was up to.

"I thought we could have dinner together," his father said. "Just the two of us."

Krad growled.

 _No!_ said Satoshi.

 _/Insolent upstart,/_ hissed Krad.

 _Wait,_ said Satoshi. He didn't expect Krad to listen but he subsided a little, with a feeling like a hunter settling down to wait for his prey to come out. "That sounds very pleasant, sir, but --"

"Oh, don't worry about your schoolwork!" said his father cheerfully. "I won't keep you out all night."

His father did not approve of Satoshi attending school and knew that Satoshi usually finished his homework in class. Satoshi didn't take a step away but he braced himself.

"Your teacher told me how well you're doing," continued his father. "I'm so proud of you."

Satoshi and Krad were briefly but strongly united in the feeling that his stepfather was up to nothing good. Satoshi wished he could find a way to leave; Krad wanted to find out what this upstart was planning, and teach him his place. Satoshi hesitated. "Very well, Father," he said reluctantly. "If you insist."

\---

"Dad," said Daisuke, poking his head in Kosuke's study, "Hiwatari-kun said you visited him this morning."

Kosuke looked up and tried not to smile nervously. "I was a little worried," he said. "He seems to be a nice kid."

"Yes, he is," agreed Daisuke. He smiled at Kosuke, Emiko's smile, bright and loving, and went off to his room.

Kosuke looked down at his papers and tired to tell himself that everything would be all right. He hadn't liked the way Hiwatari-kun looked: old and tired, too old and tired for a fifteen year old boy, as if he had lived for too long and wanted only to rest. He could tell Hiwatari-kun was on the edge of power failure, the terrible exhaustion that came after expending too much magical energy for too long. Probably Hiwatari-kun could be more or less restored, if not cured, by a long rest and peace, but Kosuke knew the chances of him getting it were so poor as to be simply not worth calculating. Dark was right; Hiwatari-kun was dying, as surely as if he had a physical cancer.

He didn't know what to do. If he told Daisuke, it would only worry him. If he told Dark -- but Dark knew already, and Kosuke had an idea that as much as Dark might sincerely pity Hiwatari-kun, there wasn't a lot he was willing or able to do to help him. At most all Dark could do was not attack Hiwatari-kun first, but that did nothing about the drain Krad inflicted on him.

And obviously Krad was perfectly willing to drain Hiwatari-kun dry.

If Kosuke told Daisuke, he might refuse to respond to an attack; that would mean less strain on Hiwatari-kun but would only lead to Daisuke's defeat, at best, because Krad had no regard for the health or life of his host -- and even less, if possible, for Daisuke.

Emiko-san would say that he and Daisuke had no business worrying about the Hikari boy. So would his father-in-law. But...

They're just boys, thought Kosuke. Why do they have to bear this?

\---

Satoshi ate what was put before him mechanically. He couldn't taste a damn thing anyway. It was all so much cardboard in his mouth, although he could see that his father's cook had done his best. He was a bit of an artist, and tried to make everything look like it came from a food magazine.

He waited for the blow to fall. He knew there would be one, but he didn't know what it would be or how harshly it would fall on him.

His father talked about nothing in particular, things that Satoshi could answer as mechanically as he put food in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. He had a strange gleam in his eye that Satoshi distrusted intensely; he might as well have said out loud that he had something up his sleeve that Satoshi wasn't going to like one goddamn bit.

"Well!" said his father. "That was delicious."

"Yes, sir."

"Now that we've eaten ..." he paused. "I have an idea."

"Yes, sir?" said Satoshi warily.

"I wanted to show you something," said his father. "In the vaults."

Satoshi's hands went cold and clammy.

\---

Kosuke shuffled the papers on his desk, records of the Niwa-Hikari feud. There were stories here of past Niwa and Hikari, how they lived and died, who they married and what their spouses had brought to the families. He'd found notes, almost ravings, from people who had thought perhaps things would end if a daughter from one family married a son of the other, half-insane theories of the way the power was transmitted from one generation to the next.

He even had a short diary from Hiwatari-kun's mother, filled with an anguished, scrawled hand that detailed her pregnancy and the terrible dreams she had suffered, mixed with incoherently expressed, consuming love for her unborn son. She wrote that she could hardly bear knowing what she had condemned him to. She'd noted seeing Emiko-san and him at the doctor's office, wrote of her agonized envy that the Niwa child would have both parents and, even if he was a boy, something like stability and love before his fate overtook him. Mixed in with her pain were perfectly cold, clinical charts and notes of her pregnancy, and of the sire she'd found for her child.

The most terrible part was a series of thumbnail sketches of Hiwatari-kun as a baby; delicate bits of art in the old notebook, the baby laughing or sleeping or crying. They were full of pride and affection.

Kosuke flipped through it and came to rest of the genetic charts for Hiwatari-kun and Daisuke. Daisuke's was incomplete; Hikari Rio had never met him and didn't know enough of his family background to be able to fill more than a sketchy outline.

"Has power," she noted. "Unknown strength."

The Niwa side was painstakingly exact, charting marriages and degrees of power from each of Daisuke's ancestors. For a while the Niwa apparently had bred for power like the Hikari had -- or they had been very lucky with the girls they married. Possibly they'd fallen in love with girls with power _because_ they had power. Kosuke noticed that most of the girls had 'recessive' marked by their names -- it seemed that if you put a Niwa boy in a room full of girls, they'd go for the one who came from a line of mages and people with power, and yet displayed no magic of their own. Most Niwa girls in the direct line chose husbands like Kosuke, who had at least some active magical ability.

Kosuke closed the book and reached for a chart of Daisuke's lineage from both sides of the family. He looked at it for a long moment and sighed. He had to tell Daisuke, he thought. Maybe he could do something. Maybe he couldn't, but either way, Daisuke had to know.

\---

The vault was underground, reached by many flights of stairs and ramps. The air was chilly and damp, with a slimy feeling of earth and underground water. It was a horrible place to keep art; Satoshi had always supposed his revered ancestors had hoped the things stored there would molder quietly away before they caused problems by gaining souls -- or coming to the attention of the Niwa clan. Satoshi thought that the sight of the vault would drive Niwa's mother into hysterics. But then again, he had a strong impression that a tour of the Niwa home would send him to the hospital with a bleeding ulcer, so they were probably even.

But here, at least, Hikari work was (if not safe) unlikely to be admired and draw enough emotion to come to life. It hurt him a little anyway, to think that all this artwork had no better fate than to fall to dust and mold in this underground prison. At least the Niwa family took care of what they took. Hikari art was dangerous: Satoshi knew this better than anybody. If it meant he had to lock it away so it couldn't hurt anybody, he would.

He hoped Niwa liked the pictures from the ancestor who'd liked kites. He was pretty sure that the Niwa collection had a painting he'd done of a group of children playing with kites. One of the models had been a Niwa daughter. That painting, from all Satoshi had heard of it, deserved to be in a lighted room where people could love it.

The passages down to the vaults were made longer by the fact that the family had never dared bring electricity past the first basement. Less because of the explanations (he thought his grandmother had been capable of hiring it done and disposing of the workers) and more because of the sheer scope of the project. The vault was at least twenty-five feet below the lowest part of the tunnels that ran beneath the city. Probably deeper than that. After the first basement you felt your way down by lantern or candle light. Satoshi wasn't exactly used to it, but he went down once or twice a year to check on the seals, so it didn't bother him. Much.

Even so, following behind his father, both of them carrying lanterns, he felt cold and anxious. It would be horribly easy to trip and fall on the stairs, which had no railings. Even easier to push someone. He tried not to think about it, but he was glad to be behind Hiwatari.

The worst part, though, was that all the artwork in one spot gave Krad energy. He grew stronger with every step downward, feeding off the ambient power from the art.

"Have you been down here lately?" said his father. He was as calm as if they were walking down the street, which made Satoshi even more nervous.

"No, sir," said Satoshi. Krad's thoughts were seeping into his own, thoughts like 'push him down it would be an accident but it would be too good for him the horrible little upstart'.

"Are you frightened of it?" asked his father.

Satoshi set his teeth and ignored Krad's outraged hiss. "I came at New Year to check the art."

"Ah, yes," said his father. He looked around the dark vault with a strange, proprietary smile. "The work of a thousand years."

Satoshi hoped he wasn't going to start up again. His father had two basic rants, and Satoshi hated them both. There was the 'You are no longer a Hikari' one which touched points including, but not limited to, inbreeding, the lack of relevance art had in the Modern World, and the foolishness of the Hikari clan in general and their feud with the Niwa clan in particular. The other one was 'You are the Heir of a Great Blah Blah Blah'. Sometimes Satoshi spent hours in class, when he should have been playing attention and he wasn't able to stare at Niwa until he began to look hunted, working out if his father had a complex about the Hikari. And, if so, what type and whether he was secretly proud of raising a Hikari or suffered from some sort of reverse snobbery. He'd never been able to work it out, but it filled his time.

In either case, Satoshi was too tired to listen with even the appearance of patience. "It's all rotting here."

"But think of the value," said his father. "Think of the loss to the world."

"There is no loss to the world," said Satoshi.

"Don't you think," said his father, dropping in to the gentle, confidential tone he used when he was trying to get someone to do something for him, "Don't you believe that even if the world doesn't know about something it's still a loss?"

"I know it's here," said Satoshi. "That's enough." It had to be enough. For always.

"No," said his father. "This art deserves to be shared. And yet the Hikari have locked it away."

"It's dangerous," he said wearily.

"Do you know that for sure?"

"Yes," said Satoshi.

His father ignored him. "The only reason this art is dangerous is because it was targeted. Remove the threat and it is safe, don't you see?"

Satoshi could see an excellent profit made by releasing the very rare and very, very valuable Hikari art a little at a time, and he was sure his father could as well. "No," he said. "I don't see."

"Remove the threat," said his father, going toward the Black Wings vault, and opening the door, "And the art will be safe. We can share it with the world."

Satoshi was silent for a long moment. He was cold and tired, with the prickling ache of transformation grinding in every nerve. "Father," he said quietly. "If you root out the Niwa clan, every branch and stock, and prevented it from growing ever again, this art will still be dangerous. If you take what lies here into the sun, people will be drawn to it. People will love it." His voice changed even as he spoke. He could feel the change in his bones as they stretched, as shearing pain clawed down his back. "And people will kill for it, and suffer for it, and die for it."

There was silence as Hiwatari stared at him.

"That," said Krad, almost gently, "Is what Hikari art is."

\---

Kosuke wondered what Emiko-san had taught Daisuke about family history since ... things had started to happen. Probably not a lot. Emiko-san had an half-instinctive, irrational hatred for the Hikari clan, like a mongoose for a snake. Daiki had some of it too, tempered by his age and having been Dark.

So Kosuke had to explain things. It was rather like The Talk other men his age were giving their sons, only about ten times worse. Daisuke was painfully aware of the facts of life, so that was probably something Kosuke would never have to deal with. Instead he had to explain the reasons for the Hikari-Niwa feud. Kosuke wasn't sure how much Daisuke understood; Emiko had raised him not knowing anything about the Niwa-Hikari feud. On one hand, this meant Daisuke was having things dumped on him as they happened. On the other hand, he was the only Niwa in a very long time not to be bred in a bone-deep hatred of the Hikari clan. Kosuke thought that if it didn't get him killed it might save both of the clans.

He knocked on Daisuke's door.

"Yes?"

"May I come in?"

"Sure, Dad." He heard Daisuke push his chair away from the desk and come over to unlock the door. (Kosuke had heard that was a sign of distrust between children and parents, and should be addressed. Anyway, considering Emiko-san, Daisuke deserved any illusion of privacy he could get before she picked the lock.)

"Are you done with your homework?" asked Kosuke.

"Pretty much," said Daisuke warily. "Did Mom --"

"No," said Kosuke hastily. "No notices. I just wanted to talk to you."

Daisuke relaxed. "About what?"

"Maybe you could clear off your desk," said Kosuke. "I need to show you something."

When Daisuke cleared off the desk, Kosuke spread out the first of the charts. It was an eight-pointed star, two squares laid at right angles to each other with connecting lines through each of the intersections, inside a double circle divided into twelve parts, and marked like a clock. Each of the eight points was marked with a direction -- north, north-east, east, south-east, south, south-west, west, and north-west. "This is a magical ability chart. It's not really standard -- there's really no such things -- but most lines and traditions can read it."

"It looks like a compass," said Daisuke.

Kosuke nodded. "It is, kind of. It's called a Read Array, after the inventor." He touched one of the cardinal points. "Each of the directions is connected to an element and a season. The secondary directions are connected with one of the independent elements: dark, light, heat and cold. The twelve numbers around the circle are the zodiac -- you can associate them with either the months or the Chinese zodiac."

Daisuke nodded valiantly but his eyes glazed over.

"It gets worse," said Kosuke. "But that's the idea. It's a bit like a horoscope but it's meant to display type and strength of magical power."

"You can read them?" demanded Daisuke, looking awed. He stopped for a second and said, "Dark thinks he's seen these before but not completed ones."

"Probably," agreed Kosuke. "The motif is used in art quite a bit." He tapped one of the points of the star. "The basic chart is divided into thirty-two sections. If you want you can divide the triangles into smaller ones to make it more exact, but it gets pretty bulky."

Daisuke nodded.

"The small square in the center is always filled in, then -- well, it gets pretty complicated. I spent a year in England learning to draw these. Each triangle represents a unit of power. To fill out one of these you need to know what _type_ of power someone has, and what _elements_ that power carries. Magic always has attributes of light, dark, heat or cold. Then it has elemental affinities -- fire, water, earth and air. If a person's power is evenly distributed between all four of the two types, the attribute is called Void. As you fill in the chart you can see the tendency a person's power takes. There's several tests and formulas you can use, but they all basically do the same thing."

He pulled out a completed chart. "This is your mother's. You can see she leans toward Dark and Heat for her attributes, with an elemental affinity of Air."

"What are the gold squiggly things on top of the chart?"

"Er, well, they mark houses in the zodiac and other things. Connectors, you could say." He pulled out another one. "Here's your grandfather's chart. "He's in the Southwest -- Dark and Water."

Daisuke looked at the chart and tried to look like he understood. Kosuke sighed. "Here's my chart," he said. It was larger and done in a different hand than the others. "I have a Void affinity for heat/cold/dark/light, but a very strong Earth element."

Daisuke thought that over. "Does that affect what magic you can do?"

"Partly," said Kosuke. "And partly it's a compatibility chart like a horoscope." He rubbed his head sheepishly. "But that's even more complicated and according to it I should have never married your mother."

Daisuke blinked.

"Air," explained Kosuke. "Earth's opposing element. It's not the worst possible match but it doesn't always work out very well."

"Ah," said Daisuke.

Kosuke pulled out two more charts. "The Hikari family adopted these charts shortly after they were invented. Here's Hiwatari-kun's grandmother. She was Cold/Earth. Hiwatari-kun's mother was Light/Fire -- that's kind of unusual for a Hikari."

Daisuke stared at him with something like awe. "Dad, where did you _find_ those?"

"Um," said Kosuke. "A lot happened. Here's Hiwatari-kun's."

"Light and Water?" said Daisuke.

Kosuke nodded. "That's a pretty auspicious combination; creative and mutable. But it's closer to Void/Water. I tried to find out about his birth father but Rio-san covered her tracks. By Hiwatari-kun's chart I'd say he was probably Dark, Heat or Void. It takes a lot to drag a Hikari's alignment away from Light or Cold." He took a deep breath. "Your mother may not be very happy about this."

Daisuke waited.

"This is your chart," said Kosuke.

\---

"Don't you want to be rid of Dark?" said Hiwatari.

Krad looked at him with cold pity. "You know nothing."

"I know the key to unlocking the Black Wings," he said, sweeping his hand toward the great artwork before them.

"Others have believed that," said Krad. In the back of his mind his host lay, a tired, piteous thing. Don't kill him, he pleaded. Don't kill don't don't don't --

"I can unlock it," insisted Hiwatari. "I can --"

"Be silent," said Krad.

\---

"Um," said Daisuke. "I'm -- Void ... Earth?"

"No," said Kosuke. "You're Void/Void."

There was a long silence.

"OK," said Daisuke, carefully. "Dark's kind of swearing?" He stopped. "Dark wants to know if you're sure you charted this right."

"Oh, I am," said Kosuke. "That chart you're looking at was drawn by Hikari Rio. I checked her calculations five times, and I've redrawn it every year since. I even sent a copy to the person who taught me how to draw them and got his opinion."

"But -- what does it mean, exactly?"

"Void isn't a real element," said Kosuke. "It's more the balance of equal and opposing forces. It's like movement before it begins. Daisuke --" He stopped.

Daisuke's eyes were turning purple, and he had an intent, listening look. Kosuke listened too -- and heard it, a high-pitched sound like breaking glass, going on and on until you wanted to claw out your ears to make it stop.

There was a scream from Towa-chan, and a high squeal of pain from With.

Daisuke bolted from his chair and went downstairs. Kosuke felt like his head was splintering open but he managed to stagger out behind Daisuke. Towa-chan was curled on the floor of the hall, her eyes glazed and staring at nothing.

"What's going on?" said Emiko-san. With was unconscious in her arms, with blood trickling from his nose.

"The black Wings," said Daisuke, with Dark's voice.

"What?" said Daiki, who looked nearly as bad as Towa-chan and With.

"The fool released the seal," said Daisuke-Dark over his shoulder, running down the stairs.

"Daisuke, what are you doing?" said Emiko-san. He didn't respond and she said, almost fearfully, "Dark!"

Daisuke-Dark looked up at her and smiled. "You were always my favorite girl, Emiko," he said gently. He looked at Kosuke. "Take care of them."

Kosuke nodded. Daisuke-Dark ran out the door.

"What's going on?" said Emiko-san. "Kosuke-san, what's happening?"

Kosuke watched his son running, transforming with every step. "The end," he said.

 


	11. bang bang (my baby shot me down)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a lot of -- well, ok, if you're eating a tomato and pasta dish I strongly suggest you finish it before you read the chapter. Consider yourselves warned, chilluns. You asked for Hiwatari-papa to die horribly and Auntie delivered!
> 
> ETA 2012: He really, really did.

"You could be free!" said Hiwatari.

"Not while the clans live," hissed Krad.

Hiwatari Kei looked at Krad, and he opened his mouth to scream, and gagged on his own blood instead for a single, eternal second before his eyes bulged out and his body exploded, raining blood and bits of flesh over the room, covering the walls and floor and the great chained artwork. The walls thrummed in response.

Krad laughed. "That's what happens when they try to take you away from me. He deserved it. Filthy human."

In the furthest corner of his mind, Satoshi's consciousness flickered and sank away.

\---

Dark ran.

The seal should not have been broken. It was too soon but not soon enough. He wasn't ready.

:What's going to happen?:

::I don't know, Daisuke.::

:What happened?:

::The seal was broken.::

:The seal?:

Dark vaulted over a fence and kept running. A dog growled, then whimpered as he passed, and cowered in the empty yard.

::We sealed it.::

:Why?:

::It was dangerous. It was loved too much, and we were born.::

:We?:

::Krad and Dark.::

\---

(Once upon a time there was an artist who did not understand love.)

\---

They took the steep, winding stairs two or three at a time, nearly flying, going lower and lower. The stairs were lit with flickering lights made of pure energy, dancing around Dark like moths.

\---

Kosuke staggered out the door. He had to find where they were, had to get his son out if he was alive or pick up the pieces if he had died. Had to. His head hurt horribly. It was like the worst migraine imaginable, magnified a thousand times.

"Kosuke-sama," said Towa-chan. "I can lead you there."

Kosuke looked at her. Her face was pale, bluish-white, and she clung to the side of door. "You can't walk."

"So I'll ride," she said, smiling a little. "Finding things is what I am made to do, Niwa Kosuke."

"I'll come too," said Emiko-san. "I can't do much but --"

"There may be locks to pick," said Daiki. "I'll stay here with With and the art."

Kosuke nodded.

\---

The walls of the cavern were humming with power, an unearthly sound almost like the buzzing drone of a swarm of bees. Inside Dark, shaken by a terrible foreboding, Daisuke shuddered.

::The art is feeding off the surge,:: said Dark.

:What caused it?:

::The seal being released. The death of a human.::

:What?:

::That's the only thing that could have caused this.::

\---

(Once upon a time there was a thief who loved beautiful things.)

\---

Kosuke half-stumbled down the street with Towa-chan in her bird form on one shoulder, supported by Emiko-san on the other.

"I don't feel very well myself," said Emiko-san. "What _is_ this, Kosuke-san?"

"Blood-magic, I think. If we're lucky, it was an accident."

"If we're not?"

"I've always liked this town," said Towa-chan wistfully. "It was a nice place to live."

\---

Dark reached the bottom of the stairs. The great double doors leading to the Black Wings' vault were closed, but something that gleamed black in the dim light was seeping from under them.

Dark's nostrils flared as a metallic, organic smell rose around him.

:Blood?:

::Yeah.::

He pushed open the doors.

\---

Alone in the house, Daiki looked around at the art that surrounded him. He settled With more comfortably in his arms, and walked deliberately, one foot in front of the other in the graceful, catlike stride his grandfather had trained into him, down to the Niwa vault. The art there glowed with power, even through the seals.

"Don't worry," he said, settling himself stiffly on the floor. "You won't be alone."

\---

The scene in front of them was something like a painting of hell. Blood made the floors slick and dripped down the walls. There was the inescapable, nauseating scent of death in the air. Dark's foot bumped against something, and he looked down to see Commander-in-Chief Hiwatari's head lying on the ground. His eyes were frozen open and stared at nothing and his mouth was open in a silent scream. His glasses were still on his face.

Daisuke gagged.

::No time to be sick,:: said Dark. "Krad! What do you think you're doing?"

A soft chuckle answered him. "He said we could be free. He said he could help us. He'd get rid of the Niwa, he said."

Dark turned until he saw Krad, still dressed in spotless white despite the gore around him. "You killed him for that?"

"Satoshi-sama was angry. Satoshi-sama didn't want the Niwa-boy hurt. Foolish Satoshi -sama. My pride and everything," he said dreamily. "He made Satoshi-sama hurt. He tried to use us." He got down from the place where he was perched and floated closer to Dark. "It was only a stupid human," he said coaxingly.

"That's no reason to kill."

"Why shouldn't I? It was only a foolish human. What does one matter?"

"They all matter," said Dark.

"Why?"

"They give us life," said Dark.

\---

Kosuke followed Towa-chan and Emiko-san followed him, running toward the energy's epicenter. It was pulsing angrily, about to explode.

Please let us be in time, prayed Kosuke. Please, please, please let us be in time.

\---

"We can be free," said Krad. "I have this vessel as my own. Take yours. Make them pay, make this end."

"Yes," said Dark, his eyes flickering toward the chained art in the middle of the room. "It's time for this to end."

\---

(Once upon a time there was an artist and a thief and each had what the other lacked.)

\---

Daisuke felt something strange, almost like what had happened when he and Dark had been separated by the Sage and Hiwatari-kun, but not from the outside, from the inside the shared space between his self and Dark. :Dark?:

Dark didn't answer as Daisuke was sucked into a black nothingness. Daisuke tried to fight it but it whatever it was was inescapable. :Dark? Dark!:

::I'm sorry, Daisuke.::

\---

(Stories always begin 'once upon a time' because if they started 'here and now' you couldn't bear it.)

\---

"They deserve this," said Krad. "They earned this. It's our right." His eyes glowed yellow-white. "They tore us from our world."

"I don't care about that," said Dark, walking slowly toward Krad. His feet made soft squishing noises over the blood and tissue on the ground. "The only thing I care about is the Niwa."

"You should hate them," hissed Krad. "Why don't you hate them?"

"I don't hate them because they're _mine._ "

\---

(Our end is our beginning is our end is our beginning.)

\---

 

Kosuke stumbled up to the darkened house. He saw that it was old, not broken-down but obviously not cared for. It stood silently, waiting for something it could not ask for. He could hear the sound of the sea breaking against the cliffs nearby.

It was a traditional house, with half-eroded stone lions opening their broken mouths in soundless roars. Kosuke felt a sudden stab of pity for them and the house they guarded. There was a battered wooden tablet hanging by the door, with two characters engraved on it.

"Hikari," read Emiko-san.

The door slid open.

\---

"Yours?" said Krad. "They enslaved us."

"No," said Dark. "I chose them and they chose me." He walked calmly forward. "Each for as long as we needed each other. Partners. Do you remember? I am you. You are me."

Krad screamed, "They took you away from me! You went away and you always take what's mine from me! Always!"

"Nobody took me," said Dark. "I went to them. The only one to decide what I'll do is me."

\---

A scroll hung on the wall, tattered but still intact. _Without choice but without regret. Without will or desire but inevitably and with joyful submission._

Kosuke wondered how often Hiwatari-kun had read those words, and what they meant to him.

\---

"It's been a long time," said Dark. "But it's time to go."

Krad's eyes widened and he took a step back. "I will not," he said. "You can't."

"Watch me," said Dark, and took another step forward.

\---

Towa-chan fluttered back and forth, searching. "There's too much art," she said. "I can't tell where they are."

"We're losing time," said Emiko-san.

Kosuke closed his eyes to try to concentrate through the migraine ripping through his skull. Think, Kosuke, think! "Emiko-san, where would you hide a work like the Black Wings?"

"Father always says Hikari put art high up," said Emiko-san.

Kosuke opened his eyes and looked at Towa-chan. She shook her head. "There's no art higher than ten feet here. And you saw the outside of the house; it's only one story."

Kosuke took a deep breath. Think, dammit, /think/. To seal something you put it in an opposing element. Dark is sealed by requited love. The name of the work is the Black Wings. Black is Dark, Wings are Air. Dark is Heat and Dark, Krad is Cold and Light, so they balance out. It has to be sealed by an element, not an attribute. Wings. They both have wings. Dark never goes underground if he can help it. So if he was to seal it -- "Underground," he said. "The entrance might be surrounded by water."

"I smell water over there," said Towa-chan.

They ran down corridors and hallways hung with painted screens and scrolls. Kosuke caught a glimpse of one in passing; it looked like it was the Heart Sutra in beautiful, flowing calligraphy.

They burst out into a central courtyard. The garden area was divided by four streams that met in the center in a small granite fountain.

"This isn't the main entrance," said Towa-chan. "I remember seeing that once."

"As long as it _is_ one," said Kosuke, grimly.

Towa-chan pointed at the fountain. "It feels like there's a way to get it to open but I can't tell what it is."

Kosuke studied it. There was a blank tablet carved into the side of the fountain, about the size and shape of the Hikari tablet at the entrance. A name tablet without a name, he thought. "Emiko-san," he said, "get over to that tablet and write your name on it. _Carefully_."

"With my finger?" asked Emiko, walking carefully over the stepping stones in the streams to the fountain.

"Yes," said Kosuke.

"It's probably a trap," she said calmly, crouching down by the tablet.

"I'd bet a Niwa against a Hikari trap," said Kosuke.

'Ni,' wrote Emiko-san. The sound of the streams changed, as if something was sinking down underground.

Kosuke set his teeth and prayed he was right.

'Wa,' she continued. The characters on the tablet glowed slightly.

He had to be right. He had to be. It was possible that the entrance could only be unlocked by a male of the direct line -- but both families tended toward females. They couldn't afford to put aside their girls, who carried the ability. They had to be taught about it, trained for it, lest all knowledge of it die out.

'Emi.' The characters were glowing brighter now, as magic gathered. He still didn't know if it was gathering to crush or open the way. It was possible this was simply another hidden vault, but neither clan was the sort to only have one entrance to their secrets.

The Niwa records showed that some of them believed that the curse could be lifted by the joining of the families. The Hikari clan had _crushed_ every other clan of thieves that went after their art. Both clans knew their lives were connected. If one clan died out, the other would be responsible for the secret they shared.

'Ko,' wrote Emiko-san, and pressed her thumb down to mark the end of her name. There was a moment of silence, and the very garden seemed to hold its breath.

The fountain began to drain. Kosuke wanted to scream at Emiko-san to get away, stand clear, but he bit his lip and waited.

The water slowly drained from the streams, and the tablet revolved, showing characters carved into it.

_The fate of Hikari art is to be gathered in Niwa hands._

The fountain sank down, leaving Emiko-san standing at the top of a flight of stairs.

Kosuke felt like fainting with relief. Knowing and trusting that Emiko-san was trained and able to get out of worse traps than the ones she set for Daisuke was entirely different than watching as she triggered one deliberately. "Let's go," he said.

\---

"You would not," said Krad, as if he was trying to convince himself as well as Dark. "You _love_ them too much. You wouldn't leave them."

"They'll be all right," said Dark. He took the last step and reached out.

Krad backed up, looking feral and hunted. "No," he said. "I will not!"

"Yes, you will." Dark's voice was filled with terrible gentleness. "We're old now. They've learned what we had to teach them. It's time for us to leave them."

Krad retreated again and Dark followed him until Krad was crammed against the huge canvas. Dark reached out again and put his hands on Krad's shoulders. Krad tried to jerk away but Dark would not be denied; his hands pulled Krad closer even as Krad hissed and tried to bite him. "Your precious Niwa will /die/," he spat.

"I don't think he will," said Dark thoughtfully. "You heard of a Void-Void combination in magical alignment?"

Krad's eyes widened in something like horror. "That's impossible!"

"Smart kid, Daisuke," said Dark. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them they were cat-pupiled like Krad's.

\---

Emiko-san screamed.

Kosuke held her back as she tried to get to Dark. Dark looked at her. "Emiko," he said. "I'm tired. I'm sorry."

Kosuke met Dark's strange purple eyes and knew what Dark meant to do. "Towa-chan," he said. "Go outside."

"But --" she began.

"You heard him," said Dark. "Go!"

Towa-chan said, "Goodbye, Dark." in a choked voice, and ran up the stairs.

"No," sobbed Emiko-san. "No!"

"Emiko-san," said Kosuke gently.

She looked up at him. "Why?"

"All things come to an end," said Dark. "Even art. Even us."

"Emiko-san," said Kosuke again. "I don't think -- I don't think Dark could bear to have another partner. Or to see you and your father go."

Emiko-san stared at him for another long moment and took a deep sobbing breath. "All right," she said.

"Let me go!" shrieked Krad, struggling harder. "I won't! I will not!"

Emiko-san began to chant. Kosuke realized it was a variation of the Heart Sutra; one modified to be used as a spell to send spirits away.

Her clear voice echoed around the chamber, the sound bouncing off the cavern's walls until it seemed like there was a thousand voices chanting together.

Dark stood with a half smile on his face, listening peacefully, even though his arm muscles were bunched and corded with holding Krad, whose screams were an eerie counterpoint to Emiko-san's chant.

As Emiko-san continued on, Kosuke could feel magic gathering around her; it swirled curiously around him, touching him gently and then moving to Dark and Krad.

"Without choice but without regret. Without will or desire but inevitably and with joyful submission," said Emiko-san, and Kosuke started, remembering the words from the scroll above them.

Krad stopped struggling gradually, until he stood with his golden head leaning on Dark's shoulder. Dark's head sank onto Krad's shoulder and they stood like statues.

"We release you. We set you free."

Dark began to glow, not brightly but like the light of ultraviolet radiation. Krad shifted uneasily but he was shining too, a white light, like sun on snow. The lights flared as the magic grew to a climax.

Emiko-san said, "Go to whence you came. Our contract is ended."

The lights flared brighter and twined around each other, and for a second Kosuke caught a glimpse of two smaller figures within the light.

"Goodbye," said Dark, and the light exploded, nova-bright.

By the time Kosuke reached them, slipping on the blood on the ground, Daisuke and Hiwatari-kun had tumbled to the ground, unconscious. He glanced up at the canvas above them but the only thing on it was a white and black feather, curled in a circle. I'll never know what it really looked like, he thought.

There was no time for regrets, he knew.

"Goodbye, Dark," said Emiko-san, and bent to help him get the boys out of the cavern.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am totally indebted to White Aster, who not was one of the people who sat down and went through this for me (thanks also to Erin, Vikki, Tanzy, Sakkit and Crysi! **HEARTS** ) but was the one who came up with the official explanation of Hiwatari-papa's death, since my instinctive reaction is ROCKS FELL THERE WAS AN EXPLOSION THEY NEVER FOUND HIM and she pointed out that if they would probably evacuate the vault if I did it that way.
> 
> \--
> 
> Meg: BANG BANG MY BABY SHOT ME DOWN.  
>  Dark: ....  
>  Krad: ....  
>  Dark: OK, just out of idle and probably fruitless curiosity, was that ....  
>  Meg: UNF UNF BABY UP AGAINST THE ART.  
>  Dark: **sincerely** You are the sickest female I know.  
>  Krad: ACCURSED MORTAL FEMALE I WILL MAKE YOU PAY.  
>  Meg: Um...a consummation devoutly to be wished?  
>  Dark: In front of Emiko.  
>  Meg: It was symbolic?  
>  Krad: YOUR DEATH WILL LAST A MILLION MILLION YEARS.  
>  Meg: I'll, uh, be elsewhere.  
>  Dark: Very elsewhere, if I were you.
> 
> \--
> 
> Just a friendly (?) reminder, children, Auntie gets cranky at 'UPDATE OR DIE' reviews. I'm almost done with the last chapter; probably within 1500 words as I type this. But that's rough draft, in notebook, and most of that still needs to be typed and checked over by the Usual Suspects (I love you guys, did I mention that lately?) before I post it. 


	12. so let go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, this was actually some freaky ass shit! Well done, past Meg!

_Daisuke._

_Daisuke, wake up_.

_Come on, time to rise and shine, lazy._

"Dark?" said Daisuke sleepily. He felt heavy with sleep but strangely light, as if he had lost something.

_Wake up, Daisuke._

Daisuke opened his eyes.

"Hey," said Dark.

Daisuke sat up and rubbed his eyes. "What happened?" He stopped. "Is Hiwatari-kun all right?"

"Dunno," said Dark.

"That isn't very nice," said Daisuke, still sleepy. He looked at Dark and realized that he was dressed in grey. Something else was wrong, but it took a minute for him to realize what it was. "Your wings! What happened to your wings?" Every pinion was tipped in white.

"You should see Krad's," said Dark dryly. "I think he's madder about the black on his wings than he is about being sealed."

"Sealed?" repeated Daisuke. "You sealed Krad?" He rubbed his head. "I remember you pushed me away. We were in a cave and Krad was there and a bunch of blood."

"Yeah," said Dark. "Krad killed the Commander in Chief for trying to unseal the Black Wings. Did a pretty damn good job of it, too."

"Krad?"

"Both of them."

Daisuke supposed he was still sleepy, because something didn't quite make sense. "Why did your wings change after you sealed Krad?"

"Well, that's the thing." Dark crouched close beside Daisuke. "I sealed the Black Wings. Emiko did, I mean, but I asked her to."

"I don't understand," said Daisuke in a thin, scared voice. But part of him did, and part of him was saying no, no, no we didn't have enough time...

"I sealed both of us," said Dark, very gently. "I had to. I'm sorry, Daisuke."

"No," said Daisuke. "No!" He flung himself on Dark and clung to him. Dark put his arm around him and let him cry for a few minutes. Daisuke sobbed into the warmth of Dark's wings, feathery and soft against his hot cheeks.

"Hey," said Dark, nudging him. "It's okay. You'll be okay."

"I don't want to be ok," said Daisuke. "Don't go. Please don't go!"

Dark shifted Daisuke so he could look at him. "Listen to me, Daisuke. It was time."

Daisuke lifted his head and scrubbed at his eyes. "Am I being selfish?"

"No," said Dark. "I'm sorry, Daisuke. I don't want to leave either. But all things come to an end. Even art." He smiled for a second. "Maybe even especially art."

Daisuke heaved another sobbing breath and was quiet. "Is this what you wanted?"

"Yes," said Dark. "I don't want to have another partner."

Daisuke looked at him and smiled as best as he could. It was sort of watery but that couldn't be helped. "Okay," he said. "Go safely."

"Safe's never interesting," observed Dark thoughtfully. "Listen to me, Daisuke. I had to seal you before I sealed the Black Wings. You can get home still but it's going to be hard. And --" He hesitated and then made a face. "Oh hell, I hate helping him. Hiwatari's lost; he went away before we got to the vault. Can't say I blame the poor bastard."

"Hiwatari-kun's lost?"

"You might as well get used to calling him Satoshi," said Dark, not bothering to explain himself, as usual. "He's around here somewhere. I'd help you if I could, but I'm running out of time."

"Are you going to be alone?" said Daisuke in a small, unhappy voice.

"Well," said Dark wryly, "I'll have Krad -- if you can call being sworn at five ways from Thursday 'company'. He'll stop sulking. Eventually."

Daisuke decided he really did not want to know.

"I wouldn't have told you," said Dark, as if explaining a grievous fault away, "but I doubt you could get back without him." He got up.

Daisuke got up too. He was determined not to cry but his eyes stung.

Dark looked at him, his eyes filled with affection. "You're a good kid, Daisuke," he said gruffly, and ruffled Daisuke's hair. The next instant he disappeared into a shower of light. Daisuke blinked rapidly, trying to force back his stupid tears. When he managed to focus again, a black feather tipped in white floated down softly from nowhere and landed on his hand.

"I am you," said Dark's voice.

"You are me," replied Daisuke softly, and turned away.

\---

He looked around and realized that he was in a place that was nothing but white. For a minute he thought it was snow, and then he realized it was huge drifts of paper and canvases. There was no exit that he could see. He picked a direction and began to wade through the paper, calling Hiwatari-kun's name and listening for a reply. The paper muffled his voice.

"This is really freaky," he said aloud.

He walked for a very long time, looking and shouting for Hiwatari-kun until his voice went hoarse and his eyes watered from the unending whiteness.

"This isn't working," he said. He sat down and rubbed his forehead wearily. "What would Dark do? Fly. But I can't fly. Dark said there was a way out. Think, Daisuke." He looked down and saw a spot of black half-covered by a sheet of paper. He pushed the paper aside and saw it was an ink painting -- a sketch, really -- of a swallow. He touched it and the bird fluttered its wings and leaped off the paper. Daisuke yelped but the bird didn't fly away. The little thing's eye, perfect in every detail but still unmistakably made of ink, looked at him.

Daisuke reached out and the swallow landed on his hand. He _felt_ the bird's tiny claws grip his hand, a prickly shivery feeling. The bird opened its beak in a silent chirp, and took off from his hand in a soundless flutter of wings. It flew around his head, opening and closing its mouth as if it was singing. It reminded him a little of Towa-chan.

He got up and the bird flew in a wide arc, swooping around him and away before coming back again.

He followed it.

The swallow led him across the wasteland of paper and he almost didn't realize it when they entered a forest -- an ink painting of a forest. He stopped for a second and stared as the ink bled from black to brown and deep green, turning the forest from black and white to colors. The swallow landed on his shoulder and chirped. He squinted and saw that it was colored, too, light greys and browns. It took off again and Daisuke followed it through the ink forest. As they went deeper, the forest became more and more realistic.

Finally they came to the edge of the forest. The swallow flew a circle around his head and dipped near his face, as if saying goodbye, and disappeared.

"Really freaky," said Daisuke.

He looked around and saw a group of children flying kites. Something about the scene seemed familiar. He walked toward the children.

They were singing a song in clear, childish voices.

Kite flying on the wind  
Take our troubles far away  
Kite flying on the wind  
We the little children pray  
Kite flying on the wind  
Take our troubles far away

The children sang it two or three times, and then chanted, "I gave you my new kite but you lost IT!" and one of the children disappeared and their kite floated lazily away.

They repeated the song and the chant several times, and each time a child disappeared. By the time Daisuke reached them there was only a little blonde girl in a blue kimono in the kagome pattern, and a little girl with red hair, whose kimono pattern Daisuke couldn't place right away. 'Red feather', he remembered. The scene reminded him of a picture that hung in his room, of two girls flying kites. The picture had a short poem about flying kites in spring written on it.

"Hello," said the girl in the red-feather kimono. "Have you come to play with us?"

Something about that game made Daisuke's spine shiver in primal unease, but he smiled and shook his head. "I'm looking for someone. Have you seen him?"

The blonde girl studied him for a second and then put her arm on his sleeve and tugged. He knelt down and she put her hand against his ear and whispered, "He went away."

"Who did?"

" _He_ did," she whispered. "He was sad and tired so he went away. He had blue eyes. Like mine. So I let him go."

Daisuke looked at her. "What was his name?"

"He didn't tell me," she said. "But I know."

The girl in the red feather kimono tugged his other sleeve. "Did you see my kite? The man made it for me. He wasn't supposed to."

Daisuke looked up, following the lines of the kite strings. He realized that the emblems on the kites were the Niwa crest and a cross in a circle. He'd seen that mark before. He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. "Why did the other children go away?"

"They aren't real," said the blonde girl.

"Are you from over there?" asked the redhead with grave interest. "I remember over there."

Daisuke felt queasy. He remembered now; the picture in his room was of two little girls who were supposed to have died in a plague, and it was kept there because one of the girls was a Niwa. The other little girl must have been a member of Hiwatari-kun's family.

He was in a piece of Hikari art.

"Can you help me?" he said, trying to keep his voice friendly and calm. "I need to find him."

The blonde girl stared at him for another long moment. "What's his name?"

"Hiwa -- Hikari-kun," he said. "Hikari Satoshi-kun."

The redheaded girl skipped in place. " _I_ know a Hikari," she said proudly. "Father said I wasn't to talk to him but he gave me a kite. He said, You're a good girl, little one. I have a daughter your age. Don't come here again or a monster will eat you up. And then," she finished, "I was sick and I fell asleep and I woke up here with her."

Daisuke kept from shuddering by a sheer effort of will. He looked at the Hikari girl, who simply looked back at him. Finally she pointed toward the hill and said, "He went that way. You'll help him."

"Of course he will," said the Niwa girl. "Niwa always do."

"I'll try my best," he said.

The Hikari girl nodded, and a small smile blossomed on her face.

\---

Daisuke knew, in theory, that the Hikari clan made the work that the Niwa clan stole.

Theory was a lot different from practice.

He followed a thousand different paths in a thousand different worlds. One world was nothing but a river in a forest and a creepy feeling in the back of his neck like something old and dangerous was following him just out of sight. One was a town square where all the people had eyes without pupils. Most of the worlds seemed perfectly normal at first, but there was always something _wrong_ about them. Some of them were just plain horrible, like the butcher's shop; it seemed normal until you began to wonder about the proportions of the hanging carcasses. The hind legs were too thick compared to the forelegs; after a while you began to think that whatever had hung there had walked on two legs -- and then he couldn't get away fast enough.

Worlds of flocks of butterflies, poison-bright, red and green and eye-searing blue; worlds of endless snow; worlds of nothing but ocean. Worlds where pretty girls swung eternally on vine-covered swings. He hurried through them all until he almost forgot what he was looking for, except that he must find it.

He stumbled away from a world where birds sang in voices like shattered crystal, and realized he was back in the paper wasteland. Must he search all those worlds again? he thought. He was so tired.

He sat down and buried his face in his hands. When he raised his head again, he looked around blankly for a moment and snatched up one of the sheets of paper with a gasp. He recognized Hiwatari-kun's style, from the few times Hiwatari-kun had drawn something in class. He got up and looked around, unable to believe what he saw.

Drawings and paintings everywhere; stacked carelessly on the ground and leaning against each other. Every one had slashes cut into it from a knife.

He'd destroyed them, Daisuke realized. Everything Hiwatari-kun had created, he'd destroyed himself. The damage was systematic, almost careful. He took a step and felt paper crunching under his feet. He looked down.

Sketches of him, everywhere, in pencil and ink and color, like studies for a portrait. Himself, laughing, smiling, angry, sad, running and sitting and standing. Over every sheet, in heavy black ink, rage and despair in every stroke:

THIS IS NOT ENOUGH.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The kagome pattern is real, it's sort of a six-pointed star pattern used in weaving baskets. The red feather pattern, as far as I know, is not -- it's another pun on Daisuke's last name. If it WAS real, it would be a stylized feather pattern dyed in rust-red.
> 
> Since it isn't going to come up in the fic itself -- Kosuke and Emiko got the boys home, and told a lot of lies about how they went to pick Daisuke up from his friend's house, smelled gas outside, went to investigate, and found Hiwatari Sr trying to pull the boys to safety but so dazed himself he'd let them knock against a corner and got blood on them. They pulled the boys out with Hiwatari Sr following behind them. Except then when they were slightly less busy dealing with the boys they looked over and saw Hiwatari Sr staggering toward the cliff -- you remember the cliff? -- and before they could do anything he'd fallen over and into the sea. Ooops? Also, Emiko knows a lot of things that people would really rather have her not mention, _ever_ , so they accepted the story and let them take the boys home. Towa-chan got rid of their bloody shoes and brought them new ones. Again, this is totally due to White Aster being much smarter than I am. LOVE!


	13. such great heights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1/03 - 10/05
> 
> If I tried to list everybody who helped me with this monster I'd probably have more text than the actual story, but the main helpers have been Sakkit, Janice, Tanzy, Vikki, Crysi, Ingrid and Amy, everybody who's ever been faced with me on AIM going GUESS WHAT YOU GET BITS DUMPED ON YOU, everybody who's read and commented on it. Couldn't've done it without you guys.
> 
> Everything that's vague in the last few chapters is meant to be vague, by the way. I might explain some of it in Don't Panic.
> 
> The songs, in order, for the titles:  
>  Story Title: My December (Linkin Park)  
>  01 : Day By Day (badmarsh and shri, CSI OST)  
>  02 : sweet (Chara - Tokyo Babylon Image Soundtrack) (or the one by Lamb, or the Edwards Extended Vocal Remix by Bonnie Pink -- all three work equally well)  
>  Interlude 01 : A World Without Mirrors (a line from Milk, Chara)  
>  03 : What Is This Feeling? (Wicked Original Cast Recording)  
>  04 : The Impression That I Get (The Mighty Mighty Bosstones)  
>  05 : Another Perfect Day (American Hi-Fi)  
>  06: As The Rush Comes (Motorcycle)  
>  Interlude 02 : Vicious Streak (New Order)  
>  07: Which to Bury, Us or the Hatchet? (Relient K)  
>  08: Between The Bars (Elliot Smith, Good Will Hunting OST)  
>  09: Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down) (Audio Bullies featuring Nancy Sinatra)  
>  10: Let Go (Frou Frou, Garden State OST)  
>  11: Such Great Heights (The Postal Service)
> 
> Thanks and see you again! 

Daisuke picked up one of the sheets of paper. Under the black ink disfacing it, the drawing was surprisingly good. He was stretching, arms behind his head, with his hair blowing in the wind and a bright, quiet smile on his face.

Was this how Hiwatari-kun saw him?

Even though he was surrounded by Hiwatari-kun's work, he was nowhere to be found. Daisuke had a horrible feeling that Hiwatari-kun was more lost than he was. But how to find him?

'I know you,' said a thin voice. 'You. Niwa. Artist. Niwa. Strange.'

Daisuke turned around very slowly. A faded thing hovered in front of him -- many faded things, he realized, a chill going down his spine.

'Give us life,' they whispered. 'Set us free.'

"I can't," he said. "I can't, I'm sorry."

'Please,' they hissed. 'Please.' Their transparent hands reached for him and he backed up. They were spirits, he realized, spirits that could only leave this place by being painted. They followed him, whispering and begging until his nerve broke and he ran.

When he stopped he was alone again. The place where he stood was completely empty, without even blank canvases. He caught his breath and sat down. All right, Niwa, he told himself firmly. Think. You can't ask what Dark would do because you know already. You can't call With and bust out of here. What would Dad do? What would Hiwatari-kun do?

His father would be able to figure something out. He knew how magic operated. Hiwatari-kun would be logical about it, because he was smart and he knew the rules that this world used. Dark said that Daisuke could get out. Dark was always right about stuff like that, even if Daisuke didn't believe him at first.

He could do this. Dark said so. Hiwatari-kun needed him to help him.

Funny, now that he thought about it. He'd be fine if Hiwatari-kun was there with him. Not only because he wouldn't be alone, but because when Hiwatari-kun was with him he felt calmer, more grounded. He knew that Hiwatari-kun would steady him when he needed it.

Light and Dark, Cold and Heat. Balanced. Even. What had Dad called it? Void, potential movement. The chart Dad had shown him said he was Void-Void -- but what did that mean?

His thoughts chased each other for a long time before the answer came. It meant, he realized slowly, that he could be anything he wanted to be. He could be a thief or an artist, anything he chose to be. That was why Dark had left, not because they didn't need each other or because Dark didn't care for him, but to set him free.

He didn't need Dark or Hiwatari-kun; he could be complete in and of himself. But he didn't want to be. He wanted to need people, to find his balance with them. He wanted to depend on them and be depended on. He wanted Hiwatari-kun. He wanted to go home.

This world was made of art. Things lived here, if you created them. They came if you called them.

There was and easel beside him; a canvas and paint and palette and brushes. Daisuke picked up a brush and the palette, and began to paint.

He dropped into the half-dreaming, fully awake state that he painted in, where he was aware of things happening in the background but only slightly. It was like a trance; he could only see the canvas and his brush and the image in his mind.

Hiwatari-kun's own particular smile, the one he only showed if you could catch him off-guard. Sweet and gentle and maybe a little dry. The way the light reflected off his glasses. The weariness in the way he held himself.

He never knew how long he painted, only that finally he took a deep breath and felt a presence behind him.

Slowly, carefully, as if he was trying to keep an animal from starting and run away, he began to paint again.

"That's not me," said a voice behind him.

"Why not?" he asked.

"I don't look like that," said the voice. "It's ... too good to be me."

'It is you," said Daisuke. "It can be you."

"Can it?" said Hiwatari-kun.

"Yes."

There was a long silence. "They're gone now."

"I know," said Daisuke. He set down his palette and brush but didn't dare look at Hiwatari-kun, as if it would break some spell. "Are you ok?"

"I guess," said Hiwatari-kun. "Are you?"

"No," said Daisuke, baldly. "I miss him. I want to go home."

"There's nothing stopping you."

"I want to go home with you," said Daisuke. He held his breath, waiting for Hiwatari-kun's reply.

"....why?"

"I don't know," said Daisuke. "But I won't go home without you."

Hiwatari-kun was silent again and then wrapped his arms around Daisuke and buried his face in Daisuke's neck. "Let's get you home, then."

"What about you?" said Daisuke.

Hiwatari-kun made a noncommittal noise in his throat but his arms tightened slightly around Daisuke.

Daisuke put his hands over Hiwatari-kun's arms. "Do you know how?"

"Why would I?" said Hiwatari-kun, with something like his usual dryness.

"You're the Hikari."

"You're the Niwa."

"Just because I escaped a magic world once --" began Daisuke, when Hiwatari-kun lifted his head from his shoulder.

Daisuke looked up too. There was a light glowing softly in the sky. He stretched out one hand toward it instinctively, and they began to rise.

"You know --" began Satoshi-kun.

"Satoshi-kun," said Daisuke, trying to concentrate on the light and getting closer to it, "you should be an art critic when you grow up."

"Hey," said Satoshi-kun mildly.

They rose higher and higher as the light grew stronger and in the moment before it blinded them Daisuke felt Satoshi-kun's arms tighten around him and thought, We're going to be all right.

\---

Satoshi opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling for a moment. It was a plain, ordinary ceiling and he could see a camera embedded in by the light cover. He turned his head and looked around the room, and saw Daisuke on a bed beside him, lying still.

Daisuke turned his head toward Satoshi and Satoshi saw he was holding a black, white-tipped feather in his hand. He wasn't really crying but his smile was watery. Satoshi wanted to get up and comfort him, but he was too weak; so he tried to smile at him instead.

"We're alive," said Satoshi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 08/12: Actually less shockingly horrible than I expected! 
> 
> Aww, my poor alternate canon deformed baby, I still love you.


End file.
